Decisions
by Mojohd16
Summary: Claire moved away from La Push as a child. She comes back as an adult to visit Emily and announce her engagment to a business man. Can Quil get her to fall for him and give up her rich fiance and fancy lifestyle? Rated T for some language.
1. Prelude

Author's Note:

I am soooo excited! This is my first Claire/Quil story and I hope everyone likes it. I have seen a lot of Quil and Claire love stories that start when she is like fifteen or sixteen. I have to admit, I am a sucker for those, but I figured I would try something in my story that I haven't seen before. What if Claire left as a child? And came back as an adult?

Let me know your thoughts on it... and I predict many more chapters to come! Review and Suggest away!

Thanks!

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><p>I do not own any of these characters, Stephanie does. *Tear*<p>

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><p><em>If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice. - Rush, Freewill<em>

Prelude

7-year-old Claire wailed wildly, flailing her copper arms in every direction as the tears streamed down from her chocolate eyes. She hit her dad, desperate to defeat him and run back to the small cottage, where everyone that ever meant anything to her were, solemn expression's crossing all their faces as well. Her mom's anxious attempts at comforting Claire would not succeed; they never would. Claire would never forgive them for this.

They had only done what any parent in their right mind would do. Claire's dad, Brian, worked as a physical therapist, and he had been recently let go of his position. Claire's mother, Diane, didn't work because she had gotten pregnant with Claire's older sister, Laura, when she was seventeen. She never went to college. So both without paying jobs, what do parents do? Move to find a new one. And that was the very thing that they were doing. Moving. Away.

Laura, now eleven, four years older than Claire, was excited for the change, envisioning some exotic place with palm trees or skyscrapers. But Claire, on the other hand, was devastated. She would leave her loving Aunt Emily, goofy 'pack' boys, and her precious Quil. He had been there for as long as she could remember. And now, she was leaving them all behind in La Push, with only a promise to visit.

She would never forget the grim look on Quil's face as he gave her one last hug. She told herself it would be impossible, but she thought she saw glistening tears resting on the tear ducts in his eyes. After the group of embraces that Claire dished out to all the large boys and Emily, her parent's carefully wrenched her away from the goodbyes. She started to protest, acting with her last efforts to convince them to stay, so her father threw her skinny body over his shoulder. The last face she saw before the cottage door shut behind her was the one person that she was sure she would miss every second they were apart. Quil.


	2. Welcome Home

Author's Note:

Well, here we are with the second chapter. I will be putting up new chapters whenever I find the time. (More reviews just might help, too.) The last chapter was the Prelude, so now we are jumping thirteen years to the future (Claire is 24). Hope you guys like it! Review and Comment! I am open to your ideas for future chapters if you have any! Thanks guys!

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><p>Stephanie Meyer is literally the luckiest person on Earth. She owns all the Twilight Characters.<p>

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><p><em>There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed. Some forever, not for better, some have gone and some remain. - The Beatles, In My Life<em>

Ch.1 Welcome Home

(13 years later)

I blew a dripping wet strand of crow black hair out of my face, trudging across the soggy ground to reach Emily's front door. If there was one thing I would always remember about La Push, even thirteen years later, it would be the relentless rain. It never seemed to let up.

The faint memories of this rickety shack floated around my head. The smell of Emily's infamous blueberry muffins. The constant sound of joyous voices throughout the house, making for a friendly atmosphere. This house had been the main backdrop for my childhood.

I took a second to straighten out my freshly-purchased raincoat, before knocking lightly on the wooden door. I prepared myself for a face I hadn't seen in thirteen years to welcome me. The scarred face of my Aunt Emily.

"Oh! Claire!" She wrapped me in a hospitable hug, despite my soaked clothing. Her copper skin was just as warm as I remembered it, and her dark hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a polka-dotted apron, and flour blotches patched her body, indicating she had just been baking. Her perfectly carved face was just as I had remembered it, aside from a few newly-developed wrinkles and smile-lines. She was still one of the prettiest people I knew by far.

"It's nice to see you", I greeted politely, as she released me from the tight embrace and grabbed my bulky suitcase from my hand. She wheeled it inside, and I followed her, shivering from the temperature change when entering the house.

The inside of the house was identical to the setting from most of my childhood memories. At least the pleasant ones. The kitchen was cluttered with a million different cooking utensils, recipes, and post-it-notes. The living room still held a plaid, ratty-looking couch, orange shag carpet, and a 12-inch vintage television. And everything smelled like blueberry muffins.

"I'm sorry. The kids made a mess of the house, and I haven't had the chance to clean up." Kids. My mother must have forgotten to tell me that.

"You have children?" I asked. She looked a little shocked that I hadn't known of her children.

"Yes. Sam Jr. is ten, Ella is eight, Brandon is five, and Anna is three." She numbered her fingers as she listed them, as if she might forget one. Figures. She hasfour.

"Wow." She smiled again, and her brown her eyes lit up.

"So, I suppose I should show you where you will be staying." She lead me down the narrow, wall-papered hallway, until she reached the last door at the end of it. She opened it, and set my suitcase down in the corner next to the door.

"Here you are. I'm sorry that it's a little small." She stuck out her hand as if she was advertising a product.

"Thank you", I forced out, flashing a fake smile. The room was not exactly what I would call small. It was what I would call tiny.

She nodded with another one of those motherly grins, and I held back a gag. Once she was safely out of sight, I plopped down on the bed, exhausted from my flight. Boston to Seattle was quite the trip. And I missed Boston already. I missed my spacious penthouse suite with panoramic views of the city nightlife. I missed the delectable and expensive red wine that would be sliding down my throat right now. I missed the man I loved's lips trailing kisses down my neck.

I couldn't even think of the reason why I had come here. _Why_? Oh right, to visit my distant relatives. Invite them to my wedding, actually. I had tried to persuade my mother that sending them all RSVP invitations was plenty enough, but she had insisted I go visit them anyway. I hadn't seen any of them in thirteen years. My parents had always offered Laura and I a visit here, but after we had adjusted to Boston, we didn't want to leave. I made new friends, and tried to forget about the ones I had left behind. It took a good five years to fully move on, and so I had no intention of reversing the progress by visiting. After I graduated from high school, my mom had suggested I go to college in Seattle. I had been offered a full-ride scholarship to Harvard, and she was thinking I should consider Seattle? No way in hell. I graduated from Harvard, on the dean's list, and engaged to the love of my life, with a multi-million dollar a year job waiting for me.

I argued I could always visit La Push after the wedding, because my demanding work schedule and wedding planning were too important to neglect, but she insisted that I visit '_before the wedding_'. I finally agreed, after she threatened to bring all of my best girlfriends and female coworkers here for my bachelorette party. I wouldn't ever live that up. They'd all think I was a regular back-country hick. Not happening. So, here I am. Stuck in rainy, overly-friendly La Push. My own personal hell-on-Earth.

I finally got enough energy built up to push my trembling body off the bed and change into some dry clothing. I had packed the most rugged and ugly items in my closet, expecting the wet weather and slushy mud to ruin whatever I packed. Looks like I was right on that call. My brand new raincoat was coated in a thick layer of muck. _Two weeks_. I had to spend _two whole weeks_ here. Ugh, this was not going to go near fast enough.

I checked my Blackberry quick, to make sure Dylan, my fiance, hadn't left me any important messages. He had been planning on coming to Washington with me, but being a corporate head and all, business came up. He had apologized, and even considered dropping the business deal just to come with me. I had refused to let him, though. As much as I would have liked him to come with, I couldn't ask him to do that. Besides, I wasn't sure I wanted to show him where I came from. It might be slightly embarrassing.

When the quirky cuckoo clock on the wood paneled-walls of my room struck eight o' clock, I considered it an acceptable time to go to sleep. I ran through my chin-length black hair with my hand, trying to assess the frizz that the humidity might have caused. Not enough to need a shower at the moment. I would tackle that mess tomorrow morning. But now, I needed sleep. Especially here. My Native American family wasn't known to be relaxed and quiet. Just the opposite.


	3. Favorite Place

Okey-dokey guys! I figured it's Saturday, I have time, so why not be a good person and upload another chapter? Hope you guys enjoy, and like always, don't hesitate to comment! I adore reading them!

Happy reading!

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><p>I do not own any of these characters, Stephanie does. But I wouldn't mind owning Jacob Black... hmm.<p>

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><p><em>"You have every right to a beautiful life." -Selena Gomez, Who Says<em>

Ch.3 Favorite Place

I awoke the next morning to the sound of children laughter and cartoon television shows. I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, waiting for the painful pounding in my head to stop. Those kids out there were my cousins. And believe me, if Aunt Emily expected me to be their babysitter, she had another thing coming.

I eventually accepted my unavoidable fate of being harassed by the little monsters, whether I liked it or not, and uncovered the comforter from the bed. I grabbed a pair of jeans, a blouse, and all my toiletries, and stealthily slipped into the bathroom across the hall, going undetected by the kids ears and eyes. I looked at myself in the mirror, somewhat horrified by the grotesque face staring back at me.

My normally smooth and perfectly groomed, midnight-black, hair was frazzled and tangled, and my makeup from the previous day was wiped all over my face. I went straight to work, rubbing all the makeup smudges off with a warm wash cloth. Then I undressed and hopped into the steaming shower, using my expensive shampoo and conditioner, praying my hair would be back to it's normal silky self after the tender loving care.

When I had redressed, applied fresh makeup, and combed through my back-to-normal hair, I was feeling a lot more optimistic about the long day that I was sure laid out ahead of me. I even managed to plaster a phony, but believable smile on my face. For Emily's sake.

After my little self-pep talk, I sauntered out into the main part of the house, trying to act as subtle as possible. I snuck a glance at the olive-skinned, dark-haired, children that all sat sprawled out on the shag carpet, hands on their cheeks, eyes glued to the television that displayed a cat and mouse chase. I noticed Emily, and her husband, Sam, having an intimate moment in the kitchen. I looked away bashfully as their lips met, and I was sure they were the only two people in the world. I had never seen a more intimate kiss.

I wasn't without an object to my focus for long, because somehow all four children had crowded around me, in the time it took me to turn my head away from the kiss. Each one's big brown eyes curiously searched my face, making me feel more self-conscious than I had in awhile. I could also see a little of Emily in each of them, increasing my discomfort. I never wanted kids of my own, that was for sure.

"Cware! Cware!" The littlest one tugged irritatingly on my leg.

"Your our cousin, right?" The older boy asked.

"Your so pretty!" The other girl complimented, and the similarity between Emily and her's voices was uncanny. It made me cringe.

"You smell bad", the little boy scrunched up his nose at my perfume. My _three-hundred dollar_ perfume.

Just when I was sure I wouldn't be able to handle staying in this house for the entire day, being prodded with high-pitched questions, a booming voice made me jump. Uncle Sam.

"Brandon, you do not speak like that to anyone. That was rude. Apologize to Claire." The commanding tone in his voice was unmistakable, and I kept my attention on him, even though the small boy apologized obediently. I mumbled a small "Apology accepted", but kept my gaze on my uncle. He hadn't changed one bit since I left. Emily was visibly older than him.

"Were sorry about that. Brandon tends to run his mouth", his strong voice snapped me out of my trance, just in time to see his apologetic smile.

"Don't worry about it", I heard my mouth speak, but his commanding tone still rang in my head.

After eating a strawberry yogurt cup, despite the fat and calorie-filled breakfast Emily had constructed for me, I decided to take a walk down to the one place I wasn't planning on avoiding for the trip. First Beach. That had always been my favorite place as a child, and the one place I was sure I would still enjoy seeing as an adult.

The rain hadn't presented itself yet, but by the grayish demeanor of the clouds, I was sure I would see it sometime today. I made my way down the dirt driveway and unto the sidewalk, heading towards the salty ocean aroma. I was pretty sure I could remember the way there, and there were a few signs that could help direct me if I got lost. La Push had always been a popular tourist destination, which was beyond me, but to each their own, I suppose.

When I reached the rainbow-rock covered shores of First Beach, I discovered that I had the complete beach to myself. I sat down on one of the driftwood benches, letting the ocean air fill into my nostrils, and the relaxing sound of crashing waves soothe me. The black water was violent today, crashing against the beach with wicked snaps and retreats. And for one second, I didn't miss Boston. _One _second.

I sat there for what felt like mere minutes, but after checking my watch had been hours. The sun was even setting now, making the already cloudy sky even gloomier and more eerie in appearance. I got up and swatted any dirt particles off my clothing, realizing that the rain would start soon, and I would prefer not getting soaked to the bone. I barely made it fifty yards before I felt the liquid droplets of moisture landing on my head and shoulders. I pulled up my hood, and began to wish I would have worn boots, rather than flip flops. Good thinking, Claire.

I continued on the treacherous trail back to Emily's, my head facing the water that ran over pavement. My feet were now a filthy shade of brown, mixing in with the slushy mud. The temperature probably dropped fifteen degrees when I finally reached the front doorknob with my nose running.

I opened it slowly, still a little uncomfortable with staying in someone's home. I would've felt much more at ease in a hotel room. Preferably a palatial one.

I crossed the kitchen, passing a family board game, minus Sam, and headed for my room. I immediately took off all the sopping clothing, and changed into some dry clothes. I headed out to the kitchen going to grab another yogurt cup for supper, but Emily stopped me in the middle of it. The kids must have gone to play in their rooms, because now we were alone.

"How was your day?" She smiled genuinely, and I wondered if she could have any other expression on her face, ever.

"Decent. I went to First Beach." She nodded. But she was fiddling with her hands now, as if she was nervous.

She didn't say anything though, so I turned back around to grab a spoon for the yogurt, and sat down at the table, opening the lid off the container.

"Claire, do you remember what your uncle's job is?" No. Nor did I care.

"No, I don't." I took a scoop of yogurt, letting the strawberry taste soak into my tongue.

"Um, well, he's part of a 'pack'." _Pack. _I certainly remembered now. Memories hit me like a tone of bricks. Vampires. Shape-shifters. Werewolves.

"I remember now." I was secretly proud of how calm I sounded. Werewolves were kind of a huge part of my childhood. They were always hanging around.

"Oh, good!" She smiled, obviously relieved that she wouldn't have to break that kind of news to me. I could see why that would be difficult. The only reason I know that they really exist is because I had seen them before, as a child. Then her face got serious again, and I could tell she wasn't finished.

"Were having the pack over for dinner tomorrow. They're all super excited to see you again. _Especially one_", she smiled mischievously at the last part, giving me a sly grin.

Who was excited to see me? The last time I was here, I was a snot-nosed child that was obsessed with barbies and the powder puff girls. No one would be excited to see that girl again, right? I simply nodded at her comment, not bothering to question Emily's strange hinting. I really didn't even care at this point. I just wanted to get through the next few weeks without dying.

Even though I wasn't exactly excited for the dinner party being thrown for me, it would probably the ideal time to tell everyone about the wedding. I knew Emily would go nuts when I told her, gushy, lovey-dovey things seemed to be right up her alley.

I ate the rest of my yogurt, and retired to my room for the night. I called Dylan, and had a long conversation with him, feeling ten times better after I did. He certainly brought out the best in me. Soon he would be my husband. My heart pounded at the single thought.

I finished my night off checking my work e-mail, and replying to a few of my mom's e-mails. She asked how Emily was? Good. She has four kids. She asked if I was enjoying myself? Not a bit. She asked if I told anyone I was engaged yet? Nope. I will tomorrow night at dinner though.

When the little cuckoo bird popped out at eleven, I shut my bedside light off and sank into the squeaky mattress. Then I closed my drooping eyelids, falling into a deep sleep, and dreaming of Dylan's face as I walked down the aisle in a white gown.

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><p>Just to clear it up a bit:<p>

1. Claire remembers the wolves because she saw them when she was a child (while they were phased)

2. Claire doesn't remember any of them specifically though, other than Sam, her uncle


	4. Him

Author's Note:

Here is the new chapter! I have been getting some postivie reviews so I thought I would update. This chapter is kind of long...and it's what you have all been waiting for. Claire sees Quil! KEEP reviewing, and I will keep updating. Thanks, and I won't hold you off any longer... enjoy the chapter!

Happy Reading!

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><p>I sadly do not own Twilight, or any of Stephanie's wonderful characters, but I do like to pretend I do on occasion.<p>

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><p><em>What hurts the most was being so close <em>

_And having so much to say and watching you walk away _

_And never knowing _

_What could have been _

_-Rascal Flatts, What Hurts the Most_

Ch.4 Him

I woke up with sunlight streaming through the dingy vinyl blinds. I almost fell out of the bed when it struck me that it wasn't cloudy. That was a rare event. Sunlight in La Push.

I slumped into the kitchen, not in the mood to care what I looked like. I could hear Emily's patient voice scolding a child outside in the backyard. The house was empty, aside from my uncle, who stood in the kitchen, chugging a enormous glass of water. I could hear the swallowing sound his throat made as the liquid slid down it.

I moved around him, opening the refrigerator to grab my yogurt and spoon. He moved out of my way, allowing me to get to into a chair, still chugging the water continuously. I peeled back the aluminum cover of my yogurt, and took a small bite.

"How are you doing Claire?" His voice startled me, but I gained my composure promptly.

"Okay." I tried to sound content, but he could tell I was miserable. Well, the one class in college I hadn't got an A in was theater...

"I'm sorry your not enjoying yourself. If you don't mind me asking, why did you come out here? You have never visited before." He looked a little disappointed at the lack of my visiting, but I wasn't about to apologize for staying away from this hideous place. I would however, apologize for coming back.

"My mom wanted me to come... and I have some _news_." I didn't want to give away the surprise now. I would rather only have to explain all of it once. And, I knew that if I told anybody before Emily, I would never hear the end of it.

"_News_?" He paused, analyzing the meaning. "Is everyone okay? No one's sick, right?" His voice was distressed now, thinking I came to tell Emily about my mother being deathly sick or something.

"No, nobody's sick." He looked relieved, and seemed to forget that he never ended up finding out what the _news_ was. Works for me.

"Good. Well, I have some uh... _pack_ stuff I gotta do, so I'll see you tonight at dinner." He turned around and jogged out the door, removing his shirt as he left. He definitely didn't look forty. More like twenty.

Once finished with my yogurt cup, I lagged around the small home for awhile, enjoying the peace and quiet, while Emily and the kid's played in the backyard. I hadn't had a 'lazy day' in a lengthy time. Being the CEO of a major corporation didn't leave much time for lounging around in your pajamas, watching old Turner Classic Movies and munching on raisins.

When I noticed Emily starting to gather the rambunctious, dark-haired children up from around the massive yard, I headed back towards the comfort and privacy of my room. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind Emily, or family in general, I just wasn't so fond of the booger-nosed children climbing all over me, while overwhelming me with obnoxious questions.

I started in on my thick novel, just to hear the vibrating buzz of my Blackberry clack against the wood top of the nightstand. I threw the book out of sight, and practically fell off the bed reaching for it. I pressed talk.

"Hi Honey", my fiance cooed into the phone. He always had perfect timing.

"Hey babe. How's the deal going?" I felt as giddy as a toddler on Christmas morning. Dylan was everything. And more.

"A-Okay. They signed today, so everything's in ink", he tried to play it off as 'no big deal', but I knew the value that this deal held. It would be the defining deal of the year. 78.9 million dollars.

"Dylan, that's great! I am so happy for you. I love you." I toned my voice down at the end, realizing I had been practically screaming into the phone. He had that effect on me.

"I love you, too, Claire. I picked up your ring from the jeweler's today. It's gorgeous. I can't wait for June twenty-third..." I could almost see his smiling face as he mentioned our planned wedding date. Heck, I was smiling ear to ear.

"I miss you." I couldn't help myself. I wanted nothing more than to kiss his lips, even for a second.

"I miss you, too, honey. How's it been over there?" Bad. Horrible. Worse than you could ever imagine.

"Fine. It's..._nice_ to see all my family again", I lied, not wanting to dampen his well-deserved, euphoric mood. He deserved to be happy.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Listen, Claire, I have to go now, my secretary needs me..."

"Of course. I'll talk to you soon." He hung up. I hung up. My heart ached.

The sky was getting darker and the afternoon dragged on. I pulled out the one dress I had brought (for any special occasions) and pulled it on. If I would have any reason to wear it while I was here, it would probably be tonight. _Tonight_...

I felt the butterflies swirl around in my stomach as I thought about it. I mean, I wasn't nervous or anything like that. I honestly couldn't care either way if my relatives approved of my fiance, or even wanted to come to the wedding. They weren't the reason for the knots twisting around in my abdomen.

The reason was joy. I was marrying the most amazing, handsome, and loving bachelor on planet Earth. He was perfect in every way. From his sandy blonde hair, to his tan body, to his business savvy mind, he was perfection incarnated. I had never felt like it, but I wanted to announce our engagement to the world, shouting it from mountain tops and shouting it threw open valleys. I wanted every single human on the Earth to know that he was mine, and I was his.

I know, it sounded totally cliche and absolutely ridiculous, but it was true. I loved him, and he loved me. We had so many things in common. We met in our Sophomore year at Harvard, and have been dating ever since. We both were workaholics. We both were clean-freaks. We both loved to play tennis, and even joined a couple's league together. We loved reading. Our favorite food was Caviar. We knew everything about each other. He was my true love, no doubt about it.

I snapped out of my trance, and stuffed the black phone back into my suitcase. I sauntered over into the terracotta bathroom, planning on redesigning my face. I applied some foundation (the purple bags that had started forming under my eyes weren't exactly attractive-looking), mascara, and a tiny hint of lipstick. Not too much though. Then I moved on to my frizzy hairdo, that looked more like an animal, rather than my hair. Yeah, that bad. I took out some of my hydrating products, applying goop and glop from roots to tips. Finally, when I felt satisfied enough with my appearance, I checked the clock. Six. They'd all be here any time now.

I put my makeup kit away and sauntered out into the living room, expecting to see a house stuffed full of loud-mouthed people, munching on Emily's array of food, and gossiping. But that wasn't what I found. Not even close.

I found a huddle of enormous, muscular, olive-skinned boys with their toned backs facing me. They were all whispering in a hushed tone, so I couldn't make out any words. I wandered in, trying to be as surreptitious as possible, and plopped down on the sofa, once again. I haven't watched the daily news in a few days, and felt a little out of the loop.

I switched on the static-filled television, slouching down on the sinking couch to watch. Just then, the whispering stopped, and I felt eyes on me. I didn't move an inch.

"Claire?" One of the large boys spoke, but I didn't recognize the voice. Suddenly, the row of boys got closer, but I still could only recognize one. Sam. This must be his pack.

"That's my name." I didn't move my gaze from the television.

I heard more hushed whispers, but they still weren't perceptible. I could feel their eyes on me the entire time though, and I felt my cheeks redden slightly. Who's wouldn't?

"Oh, hey boys. Where's Claire?" Emily! _Thank god!_

"Over here." I lifted my arm up from the couch, and she bustled over to me, weaving in between the large mass of tan skin. But not before planting a big one on her husband.

"You almost ready to eat?" What kind of question was that? There were ten half-naked boys in her living room, and she was concerned about dinner?

"Sure..." I propped myself up, unsure of what turn the night had taken. I was expecting crazy grandmothers, annoying children, and zit-faced teenagers. Normal family reunion members. I was _not_ expecting a bunch of rowdy, half-naked werewolf boys.

Emily unloaded the fridge and stove, revealing an alarming amount of food. Enough to feed the entire town of La Push even. I helped her carry some of the dishes to the table, feeling out of place amongst all the exposed guests. They really should just put some shirts on. It wasn't that challenging.

"Okay, everyone can take a seat now", Emily called to the group of men, now watching ESPN on the petite television. Before she could even finish the statement, the dining room chairs were filled. I was in for one interesting dinner.

I wandered awkwardly over to the table, finding a seat that wasn't directly next to any of the unfamiliar guys. Emily followed me, shortly after, taking the seat right next to me, thankfully. I felt completely out of my element. I mean, I could sit in a conference room full of a hundred, gray-haired business snobs, and give a hour-long lecture, but yet, sitting here, I couldn't even bring myself to look away from my plate. _Pathetic_.

I let my gaze slowly linger up towards the mysterious faces around the pine table, sneaking small glances, when I was sure they weren't looking. I knew that many of these men had all been a part of my childhood, but I didn't recognize any of them. Not one bit.

"I propose a toast. To Claire and her coming home. May she have a magnificent time, and come back to see us all again", Sam's broad voice bounced off the walls. Then they all cheered. _Cheered_.

After the noise died down, everyone's eyes were motioned to me. Expecting a follow-up to Sam's toast. Great.

"Thank you all for being here." I kept it short and sweet, giving them what they wanted without babbling on aimlessly.

Another round of cheers followed my reply and before I knew it, the bountiful serving platters were empty. The feast that had just occupied the entire table was gone in a flash. I also noticed nearly every werewolf's plate was now piled high with delectable goodness.

I looked at Emily, who shot me a friendly smile. I could tell she was use to this kind of thing. Sam was the only guy that hadn't started digging into his mound of food, and he handed Emily some of his. Great, now I was the only person stuck without food. Just perfect.

But then I saw a large, copper hand reach out and drop some fried chicken on my plate. Then the hand recoiled back to it's owner, and I followed it back. And it hit me. I _did_ know _this_ man.

It was _him_. It was Quil. I hadn't thought about this boy in years. He had been everything to me as a child. He had been the moon and the sun. Everything had revolved around him. A thousand memories popped into my head, refreshing my brain. He and I on First Beach, picking rocks and then skipping them across the mild waves. Him pushing me on the swing at a park, giving me under-dogs whenever I asked and batted my eyelashes. He and I roasting hotdogs at a tribe bonfire.

Before I could even react to this sudden reunion, I noticed that the room had gone dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. Everyone's eyes were on us, and our eyes were on each other.

I had forgotten so much about this place, but I hadn't _entirely_ forgotten Quil. He had took the most time to move on from. But I could never forget him completely. He had been my best friend for basically my entire life in Washington.

But what I felt now wasn't friendship. I must not have noticed when I was seven, but boy was this man handsome. He still looked like he always did, thanks to the perks of being a werewolf. His tan face was sculpted magnificently, reflecting the ceiling lights perfectly. His cheekbones were high and his eyebrows thick, both enveloping his chocolate brown eyes in shadow. His peach-colored lips were thick, set perpetually in a pout. And the look he was giving me right now, well, made the burning of my face redden even more.

"Quil?" I asked, so quiet that I wasn't sure he even heard me. I wasn't even sure if I heard me.

"Claire." His voice was great. Not too soft or sweet. Not too gruff or hard. Perfect.

I looked around briefly, and everyone's heads turned back to their food, shrugging it off with fake coughs and mindless babble. Quil's eyes never left my face though. Not for one second.

He gestured towards the back door, and I nodded, a little unsure of what I was doing. Why did he want to be alone? Why did _I_ suddenly want to be alone with him?

Once we were both safely outside, out of the hearing of the nosy crowd inside, he finally spoke.

"How are you?" It was a simple question, but the way his lips moved as he spoke, and the way he made the words sound, it was the most difficult question in the world.

"I've been better." Back home, in Boston, in my penthouse...

"Hmm", he stuck his enormous hands into his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"You?" This conversation was already going downhill...

"Okay." But the look in his dark eyes didn't say 'okay'. They said miserable. I wonder what had happened to him.

"Still in Sam's pack, I see", stating the obvious because I couldn't come up with anything else.

"Yep. You work now?"

"I am the CEO of a petrol-chemical corporation." His eyebrows raised up into his hairline, surprised at my success. I couldn't help but smile a little. He was impressed.

"Wow. You made it far." He seemed honestly cheerful for me, but there was something else in his eyes that I couldn't recognize. Some other hidden emotion.

"You could say that." He laughed a little, removing the last bit of tension in the air. His ivory smile was a truly amazing sight. I felt a twinge of satisfaction knowing I put it there. "How's La Push been since I left?"

His face darkened again, and his eyes were grave. "Good." A monkey could have told you he was lying.

I didn't ask though, afraid to know the answer. I only had two weeks here, why should I bother with the bad?

"How's Boston been? Your family? You went to college, I assume?" He seemed better again, his eyes lighting up with every syllable. I thought about his questions, being sure to answer each one.

"It's been great. My parent's got divorced three years after we moved, and my dad got remarried and moved to San Antonio. My mom still lives in Boston. Laura went to Penn State and owns her own little hair salon in Philadelphia. She's married to a dentist. I went to college at Harvard, and have been working as the CEO for a year." I made sure to not include the engagement announcement, I wanted to save it for later tonight, when Emily was around.

"I'm sorry about your parents." It didn't bother me. I didn't talk to either one much anyway. My dad had a new family, new children. He didn't care about Laura and me anymore. My mom, well, she was quite a nut-job. After my dad left, she got into drugs and alcohol, and never looked back. She was in rehab for her fourth time, but she never seemed to kick the old habits. Laura visits her sometimes, but I don't. I just talk to her on the phone once in awhile. We don't have much to talk about though, other than the wedding planning. She loves weddings, just like Emily.

"Don't be. I'm not exactly close with either one." He looked a little taken aback by that comment.

Just then, the mass of men that had been jammed inside Emily and Sam's incredibly teensy house flew out the door, sending catcalls and whistles towards Quil and I. What was that about?

Quil blushed, and I could feel the color creep up on my cheeks, too. They kept running farther away, though. Then they stopped at a metal ring on the ground; a fire pit. A second later, it exploded in blue flames, and they burst out in low-pitched chuckles, slapping each other on the backs.

Emily and Sam walked out then, arms around each other, with a true love aura surrounding them. Again, I blushed. Just watching them together screamed romance.

Emily leaned out of Sam for a second as she passed my spot on the patio chair, sending me a quick smile. I didn't really understand why though. But then again, it was Emily. Did their have to be a reason to smile with her?

"You guys coming to the bonfire?" Sam asked a second later, looking more at Quil than me. He had this concerned look in his eyes, and again I felt out of the loop. Something was up.

"Yeah. You ready?" Quil's hand reached out for mine, offering help up off my chair. I took it, despite the screaming voices in my head saying not to. His hand was so warm!

He smiled, and we walked towards the fire. He didn't release my hand though. It felt weird. I didn't even hold hands with Dylan, and he was my fiance. This certainly felt far to intimate for old friends. But as soon as I was going to protest, we had reached the place where the dancing flames lit up our faces. We made our way over to an empty log bench. Then he let go. My hand felt cold and sweaty.

The crackling was barely audible over the many voices and laughs overpowering the fire. Quil and I were silent though. His brown eyes were staring deeply into the red embers. I tapped my foot nervously. I would make my announcement soon.

"Alright everyone quiet down. We are all very thankful that Claire will be joining us tonight for the histories." Oh no. Tribe stories. This was gonna be a long-ass night.

All the animated boys quickly quieted down, anticipating the start of the story. Sam readjusted his position, sliding Emily off his lap. She leaned into his side instead.

"Our tribe has always been a small one. But we have always had magic in our blood..." Sam's story-telling voice was thunderous and demanded attention.

The stories were simple, and were all true. Werewolves, vampires, the third wife. I had remembered some of the legends from bonfires I had attended in my childhood. Let's just say, when I was seven, they had made quite an impact on me.

When Sam finished though, the night was as dark as black could possibly get, without a shining moon or star. It had also become chilly out, but being surrounded by abnormally warm werewolves, and a giant bonfire, not one shiver ran through my spine. They were like space heaters.

Sam finished the last story, and all was soundless. I shot Sam a glance that told him I was ready to make my announcement. He nodded.

"Claire came here to tell us all something important. Please listen." He nodded towards me, and I felt everyone's eyes bore into me, full attention devoted to me. I took a deep, shaky breath.

"Well, the main reason I came here was to invite you all to a wedding. _My_ wedding."

I waited.

I didn't hear squeals of excitement. I didn't hear gasps of surprise. I didn't feel warm arms wrapping around me in congratulations.

I didn't hear anything. Everyone's faces were blank. Except one.


	5. Giving Up

Author's Note:

I am literally peeing my pants right now! Why, you ask? The Hunger Games came out today, and I watched it. Yes, you heard me. I absolutely loved it. And I thought I would share that with you guys because I'm sure many of you have read the books, and are avid fans like me. I refuse to give any spoilers to you, but just wanted to reccomend it to anyone. I honestly don't think I will be able to survive until the next one comes out. I'll probably shrivel up and die.

Okay, the Hunger Games were epic, but we all know why your here. Quil and Claire. Moving on...

I'm back with a new chapter, and I want more reviews! I love to read them, and it keeps me motivated to write more. Please review! As always, thanks for the reviews I have been getting... I love you guys. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Happy Reading!

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><p>I apparently do not own anything related to Twilight. Such a shame.<p>

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><p><em>Cuz I am giving up on making passes <em>

_And I am giving up on half empty glasses_

_ And I am giving up on greener grasses_

_ I am giving up_

_-Ingrid Michaelson, Giving Up_

Ch.5 Giving Up

His eyes were glossy pools of chocolate, welling up with the salty tears. His full lips were frowning, sending depressive shock waves through me. He had an innocent look to his face, almost as if he were a child, rather than a six-foot-plus colossal werewolf.

And the worst part was, I actually felt bad for getting engaged. I was sorry that I had done anything to hurt this man from my childhood. And I had no clue why.

I glanced around at everyone's russet faces, unsure of what exactly was going on and what to say to anyone. Their heads were all facing the ground now, their expressions dismal, as if my being engaged was the worst news they'd ever received. Why was everyone acting this way? What did I say wrong?

I was about to ask _him_, utterly confused to the reactions I was getting, but as I looked over to his face, the sad tears were nowhere to be seen. His eyes were now cold and nearly black, and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Suddenly, he pushed himself off the log forcefully with a livid growl, leaving it shaking under me violently. I jumped at the sudden outburst, and finally looked over to find him. But all I caught was a glimpse of copper skin darting away from me into the black darkness of the night, headed in the direction of the woods outlying the boundaries of the yard.

What should I say? Why were they acting this way? Why was_ he_ acting this way? Aren't weddings supposed to be joyous occasions? Aren't relatives supposed to be cheering and gossiping with me right now?

The loud silence lasted for a good five minutes, allowing me plenty of time to sort through any possible theories relating to the cause of the responses I was receiving. Not many of my considered possibilities made much sense though. Actually, none of them did.

Finally, Sam stood up, his broad shoulders giving off an strong air of leadership as he forced a phony smile on his face, most likely for my benefit. Everyone's down-turned heads gradually rose to look in his direction, obediently following his dominating voice. Even I found myself listening intently.

"Thank you all for coming. I'll see everyone bright and early tomorrow morning." He gave a tiny nod then, signaling that the remaining wolves had permission to departure.

All of the boys responded, giving quick nods and acknowledgments in return, before heading out into the depths of the forest. It may have been me, but they seemed to clear out of there faster than I'd ever remembered them moving before. Sam slipped away speedily too, but in the direction of Quil's route. It was just Emily and I now, peering at each others faces across the wavy orange flames. She didn't meet my eyes.

"What just happened?" I asked, breaking the painful silence.

She sighed, indicating that was a question she didn't precisely want to be the one to answer.

"Your engaged." Duh, that's kind of what I just said...

"And..." I urged her on. She winced.

"It just took us by... surprise, I guess. You don't even have a ring." She glanced down at my ring finger, and I reflexively covered it with my other hand.

"He just got it finished yesterday", I defended with a scowl, but she didn't seem to notice my snappiness.

"I see." Her almond-shaped eyes were distant now, like her mind was somewhere else other than directly in front of me. What was with these people and weddings?

"Why did _he_ storm off?" I demanded suddenly, remembering the enraged Quil stomping off towards the trees. Her eyes immediately snapped back to me, and I could tell by her face that she knew exactly who I was talking about. She let out an exasperated sigh.

"It's complicated. Your...engagement _shocked_ him a bit."

I was gathering that. I had always thought announcing your engagement was a celebratory and blissful occasion, but apparently it was one in which people get bug-eyed and leave the first chance they get. Who would have thought? Not me, that's for sure.

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm engaged. What else do you want me to say?" I felt the sting of tears flooding to my eyes, now. I rapidly rubbed my eyes, wishing to stop them from letting the humiliating tears slide. I hated crying, it made me feel too vulnerable.

"Oh, Claire, I'm so sorry! We didn't mean to make you cry. We all just remember you as a little girl, and I think it just shook us up a bit to picture you already engaged. Our Claire-bear all grown up, you know? _Please_, honey, don't cry." She rushed over to me, her thin arms gripping me into a tight hug, while lightly brushing my hair with her slender fingers, as I let the final strings holding me together loose.

I sat there, with Emily, crying like a whiny child in her arms, for hours, probably. As much as I wanted to stop, wipe my eyes, and get over it, I couldn't. It was like I had no control over my feelings or emotions anymore. I eventually fell asleep apparently, at who knows what time.

Sam must have carried me to my bedroom, because the next morning I awoke to the wood-paneled walls, spotted with intricate needle point art and cheesy family photography. There was no sun in the gray, sullen sky today, and pounding rain poured down endlessly, the weather matching my mood. My eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, a product of all the immature crying. I felt ashamed now, thinking back to my childish sobbing.

Emily was around the house all day, finding odd things to entertain the kids that were too young to go to school yet. I mostly alternated between laying on the couch, and sleeping in my bed. Any other activities seemed near to impossible. But, doing absolutely nothing physically all day did give me time to think. A lot.

I thought about how easy it would be to just get on a plane right now and fly back to Boston. I would be able to see Dylan's face in less than ten hours, and feel his comforting arms around me. I could go home and sleep in my California King bed, undisturbed by children's squeals and laughs. I could sip expensive red wine from a crystal wine glass, letting the cool liquid bring me to a state of tranquility. I could gaze out at my breathtaking skyline view of the city night lights. It was all too tempting.

I thought about the wolves and Emily, and how much their bitter reactions had hurt me. I had never imagined that their opinions would matter to me either way, let alone their mere reactions to my news. But they _had_ crushed me more than I could explain.

I also thought about Quil, and his two-sided reaction to my announcement. First, he was crying like a baby, and the sympathy I had felt for him was overly intense, especially for a friend you hadn't seen in thirteen years. I replayed his angered outburst in my head again, trying to connect the dots between the two peculiar reactions. Everyone else had just looked sullen and shocked.

But_ he_ had gotten tortured tears in his puppy-dog eyes, and they soon quickly turned to angry fury as he tore off for the forest looking like he was ready to literally tear someones head off. _Why_? Why was he so upset over _my_ engagement? I couldn't come up with one good reason for his actions.

Then I fumed to myself. What gave _him_ the right to make me cry? And over _my_ own wedding? He was selfish, he was rude, and he was a terrible best friend. Well, _ex_-best friend.

In fact, what gave any of them a right to an opinion on my engagment. I hadn't seen any of them in thirteen years. They're lucky I even came here to invite them.

I went to sleep that night with a million different thoughts running through my head, and a million different feelings pulling me different directions. I could only be sure of one thing, and that was that I had no clue what I was going to do.

By the next morning, my fourth morning in La Push, I had come to my well-thought-out decision. It had took me all night to process it, and weigh the cons and pros, but I had ultimately reached it. I was leaving. _Today_.

I called the airport in Seattle first thing after waking up, and purchased the earliest one-way ticket back to Boston I could get. Then I called the taxi service, paying the extra amount for the taxi to come all the way to La Push to pick me up.

I knew that if I had asked, Sam or Emily would be glad to drive me, even if it was to the airport, but I really was not up for the talking in the car part. Emily would surely come up with every reason under the sun for me to stay, and finally guilt me into staying. Sam would keep apologizing over and over, and then eventually resort to complaining about how sad it would make Emily if I left, and then I would stay out of pity. And I wasn't planning on staying, so I would take the taxi. I just wanted to get out of this place, and free my mind of all the madness before I exploded.

Then, after packing up my suitcase and throwing on some clean clothes, I hobbled out into the main part of the house, preparing myself for the sure-to-be-sappy goodbyes. The final ones.

I had made an oath to myself the previous night, that I would never come back to this place again. _Ever_.

"Good morning Claire", Emily said, busy with constructing the kid's sack lunches. I watched silently as she scraped the peanut butter unto the fluffy white bread. Then she cut the sandwiches into little shapes, like stars and hearts. So Emily.

When she finally looked up at me, her smile faded away, "Your leaving." It wasn't a question, because she could probably read the expression on my face clearly. I wouldn't be swayed.

I nodded, and she bustled over like a true aunt and squeezed me in for a bone-crunching hug. I just waited patiently for her to finish squeezing me to death, rather than pretending I was going to miss all this. I loved Emily and all, but I could only take so much of her gooey-ooeyness before it became too much. Just like chocolate. It's great, but only in moderation. After awhile, it looses its appeal.

When she pulled out of the tight hug, tears were dripping down her defined cheekbones and her brown eyes were grief-stricken. My hands started twitching, so I squeezed them into fists by my sides.

"Claire, don't leave over our reactions, _please",_ she pleaded with me, half-halfheartedly. She probably knew she was fighting a losing battle. She was right. A car horn honked out front.

"Taxi's here." She didn't looked surprised by my planning ahead. She gave me a final soft peck on the cheek and waved goodbye as I made my way through the downpour and into the backseat of the vehicle. I heard her yell something, but I couldn't make out the words through her whimpering sobs and the loud droplets smacking the muddy ground.

I didn't look back as the driver pulled away from Emily's house. We drove through the small town, past some of the landmarks of my childhood.

David's Diner, the place I lost my first tooth, in an apple. Quil had practically had a heart attack when he saw the blood, if I remembered correctly. He wouldn't let me eat an apple for months after that.

Wagner's Park, the playground that Quil always took me to when I was good. He would hide under the wooden bridge and pretend to be the troll. I would race across it as fast as I could, but he would never fail to catch me and tickle me to the point that I was out of breath.

And First Beach. The mother load of memories were centered here. Quil would always take me here to swim. We would have water fights, skip rocks across the waves, and on occasion scavenge for seashells. I had gone to my first bonfire here, when I was six. That was the day I first saw all the wolves phased. Quil's coat was the prettiest chocolate brown I'd ever seen.

But looking back on these memories didn't sting, at all. It felt more along the lines of closure. These places had shaped my childhood, but they weren't meant to mold my adulthood. They were meant to stay back in the past, where they belonged.

La Push may have been tough to leave thirteen years ago, but leaving now was completely painless. Off in the distance, I heard a wolf howl.


	6. Hitting Rock Bottom

Author's Note:

Okey-dokey, well sorry I took so long, but here is the newest chapter. I know, it is a sad one, but fear not, for Quil will in back in the story very soon. Very, very soon (hint, hint). I hope you enjoy this chapter, even though it is a little saddening. I can assure you though, it is essential to the plot line. Happy reading, and REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! The more reviews, the sooner I update. No lie.

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><p>I am very devastated to admit that I do not, in fact, own any of the Twilight characters. Boo.<p>

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><p><em>When you're broken in a million little pieces<em>

_And you're trying but you can't hold on anymore _

_Every tear falls down for a reason _

_Don't you stop believing in yourself _

_When you're broken_

_-Lindsay Haun, Broken_

Ch.6 Falling Over the Edge

When I landed in Boston, I practically knocked over Dylan as I leaped into his wide open arms, soaking into his familiar form. He nuzzled my neck with his parched lips, and took my carry-on bag from my hand. I only buried my head in his shoulder, hiding the tears that trickled down, without my permission.

He whispered softly in my ear, "Why are you crying, baby?"

I let out an embarrassing sob at the sound of his voice. He smelled like spearmint gum.

He didn't try to ask again, easily seeing I was in no condition for a proper conversation in my current state. He carried me over to the baggage claim, my head still glued to his shoulder, with no intention of moving anytime soon. The embarrassing tears steadily flowed, fashioning my face redder and redder as we walked on.

When he located my suitcase, he set me down gently, and I almost crumbled unto the paisley patterned carpet out of weakness. My legs were like withered stems, sloppily swaying side to side. He grabbed my bag, and caught me from falling just in time, as other people started staring at me suspiciously with apprehensive gazes. He picked me up again, with one arm, and awkwardly dragged my bags behind us, with the other.

When we reached his black corvette, fifteen minutes later, his breath was heavy and spaced. I felt lousy. I had made him carry me, and my bags, while I cried like a baby on his brand new, twill, designer suit. _Real mature_, Claire.

He set me in the passenger side ever-so-gently and stuck my bags in the leather back seat. I rubbed my eyes, which had stopped tearing a few minutes ago. I looked in the rear view mirror, checking my appearance. The red rims that shadowed my brown eyes were atrocious looking. My black mascara ran down my cheeks in messy, glimmering streaks. My usually silky hair was puffed out in odd places, reminding me of a feather duster.

The ride to my penthouse building was noiseless. Dylan turned to give me a few discerning looks, with his perfectly groomed eyebrows furrowed, and I figured he thought I was on the border of insanity. Either that, or I'd become a drug addict. I felt symptoms of both.

I didn't really feel up to explaining it all, so I silently stared out the passenger window, pretending to be fascinated by the scam artists, pan handlers, and homeless hobos wandering around on the dark streets.

When we pulled into my building's cement parking lot, Dylan helped me out carefully and carried me up to my floor, making me feel guilty all over again. But that still wasn't enough to make me protest.

He walked in without a word or glance in any direction but my face, and he set me gently on my bed, lifting the goose down covers over me. I closed my eyes.

I woke up the next morning with a crashing headache, and I stalked into the bathroom and shoved a couple Advil's down my throat. This throbbing pain in my head was worse than any hangover I had ever experienced. Even the morning after my senior prom.

I looked up from the sink. The monster that looked back at me in the mirror was no longer a person. She was a hollow body, merely an empty frame. Disconnected. Soulless. Heartless.

I felt numb, other than the now subsiding headache, as I ate my yogurt for breakfast. For all I knew, it could have been liquid concrete. I felt no desire to do anything but spend the rest of my life in this chair.

Something vibrated on the table, and snapped me back into my senses. I reminded myself._ I am Claire Mason. I am 24 years old. I am engaged to Dylan Sutton. _

I robotically lifted the phone to my ear.

"Claire? Honey, are you okay now? What happened?" Dylan's panicked voice whispered urgently. _Whispered_?

"Wha..." I said, losing the grip on the control of my mind once again. It seemed like the neurons weren't making the connection.

"Are you alright?" He whispered anxiously again.

"Why are you whispering?" I automatically asked, again without any self control.

"I'm just... in a meeting right now, and I couldn't wait any longer to know if you were okay."

His sweet comment felt indifferent to me. _Since when_? A week ago that kind of comment would have melted me into a puddle of mush. _What_ was wrong with me?

"Claire? Claire, say something", he pleaded.

"I'm fine." I didn't even believe that myself, truthfully. But, I wouldn't tell him that.

"No, your not." Well, I tried. "Claire, go to the doctor, or I'm coming over right now", he commanded, losing his patience with my lack of words.

And then my finger pressed the end button. My _finger_.

Dial tone.

My brain was screaming at my hands to reach for the buttons to call back, but they just sat there, motionlessly. _What_ was happening to me?

Then everything went blank. Black.

I blinked my eyes open to a ice-white square room, shiny cords laying in a mess all over my body. I had needles in my arm, pumping some unknown chemical into my bloodstream. I could barely see anything because the blinding fluorescent lighting was stinging my eyes.

I was in a hospital room.

"Claire? Honey, are you awake?" Dylan's cold hands were wrapped securely around one of mine. His hopeful face was merely inches away from me, anxiously awaiting my response. I closed my eyes again, praying he wouldn't notice my brief awakening. He sat back down in his plastic chair letting out a "Humph".

The sound of my heart beating was steady, but heart monitors couldn't detect the heartache. They didn't detect that empty feeling, almost like a gaping hole in my heart. They didn't detect the constant throbbing, comparable to a ceaseless heart attack. And they didn't detect the lack of love I had for Dylan, my fiance, anymore.

I fried the image of his face into my eyelids, forcing myself to stare at him, focusing on all the things that I loved about him, somehow thinking that it would change my feelings and I would love him again. But nothing happened. It was comparable to staring at a rock. I felt _nothing_.

Suddenly, the clicks of a woman's heels entered the room, and I prepared myself for an annoying nurse to disturb my peaceful resting. But, after a few seconds of silence, I opened my eyes a slit to peek at what was going on, still hoping to maintain my 'sleep' routine just in case Dylan was still watching.

He wasn't.

And she wasn't a nurse. She was a secretary. _Dylan's_ secretary.

And they were kissing.

No, let me rephrase that. They were making out.

He was pressing her against the white hospital wall, her elongated legs wrapped around his hips, and her skin-tight gray skirt rising higher and higher with every movement. Small grunts and whines slipped out from their connected mouths.

_Why_ wasn't I angry? Why didn't I feel the urge to go punch them both?

I didn't feel the dangerous temptation for revenge rush over me. In fact, I felt nothing. Absolutely _nothing_.

I watched with a blank mind as my fiance gripped his hands around the secretary's ass, releasing a low groan from his mouth. She was practically squealing now, each one of them completely oblivious to my awakening.

After about a half an hour of total mouth-to-mouth, they heaved sighs of finality and slid off each other casually, acting as if they hadn't just dry-humped each other. She gave him a small red-lipped peck on the cheek while brushing her skirt, before heading back out the hospital room door. He wiped it off quickly after she left. Dylan came back to me, resetting his supportive post by my side. His clammy hands slid around mine again. I opened my eyes, tired of continuing the charade.

"Claire, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" He leaned forward to caress my forehead, assessing my temperature as if he were a doctor himself.

"I think that's a better question for you", I said, letting the sarcasm reap out. He froze. His face was as white as the hospital walls in a matter of seconds.

"How long have you been awake baby?" He asked nervously, his lips quivering a tad bit. He wasn't gonna tell me, unless he made sure I knew already. I wondered curiously how long this 'affair' had been going on, with me unaware. Years, probably.

"Long enough." I separated our hands, pulling mine back to my body.

"Listen, Claire, I'm really sorry. She just was having a hard time, and I was helping her out, and we just..."

"I don't care." I truthfully didn't. I had no concerns for their affair. I had no care for Dylan. I didn't care if they went and had sex right now.

"Please, baby", he appealed, thinking he was going to reel me back to him so easily. I had no patience for his apologies anymore. I just wanted him out of my life.

"Leave."

"Claire..."

"LEAVE", I screamed, and the heart rate monitor started beating faster and faster. Dylan sprinted out of the room faster than I had ever seen him run before. That would be the last time I ever saw him.

Seconds later, a gray-haired nurse rushed in with a panicked expression on her wrinkled face. She scurried to the monitor, glancing back at me occasionally as my heart rate slowed down. Finally, she let out a relieved sigh and walked over to the side of the bed.

"Oh, dear, you scared the bejeebies out of me. What in the world happened?" She asked in a sweet voice that reminded me of my grandmothers.

"Nothing", I answered blankly. I wasn't in the mood for a pity party. I wanted to be alone to figure out what the hell happened to me. _What _could have possibly caused me to lose all my love for my fiance? _What_?

My life was a mess.


	7. Apology Accepted

Author's Note:

Well, I'm sure your'e all glad to be getting another update. My birthday was yesterday, so I was feeling a little generous. Here's the new chapter, it's pretty long so be excited, and it includes a lot of what I know you all want. His name rhymes with Bill. So without further ado, Happy Reading, and review, review, review. (Hey that last sentence rhymed)

I will update sooner if I get a lot of reviews...

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><p>I don't own any Twilight related stuff. I wonder how much it would cost to buy the rights? I'll have to break open my piggy bank...<p>

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><p><em>And I feel your life pulling me back to the place<em>

_But the thought of staring back at you is more than I can face_

_-Chris Daughtry, Long Way_

Ch. 7 Apology Accepted

I tried my best to appear stable, both physically and mentally, as I traveled down the brightly lit hallway. The air smelled sterile and uninviting. I had smelled this scent for a week now, and was sure excited to get rid of it.

I watched the gray-haired nurse walking next to me out of the corner of my eye. She was looking back and forth between me and her notepad, scribbling things down like a madwoman. We reached the big glass doors at the end of the hallway, and they opened to reveal sunshine and fresh air. I breathed it in through my nostrils, but quickly exhaled when all I got was a whiff of Burger King fries mixed with smog. Yuck.

"Okay, well, dear, I think you look all set to go. This is your taxi, here", she pointed to the yellow cab parked across the entrance drive. I nodded and started toward the vehicle. She stopped me though, grabbing my wrist firmly with her wrinkled fingers. She looked me dead in the eye. "Your'e better off without him."

I felt my jaw drop to the ground. How had she known? Had she seen Dylan and the secretary? But...

What did it matter if she had? I could care less. Dylan didn't bother me, at all, actually. I felt no resentment or hurt towards him. I should. I knew I should. But I didn't.

I gave her one last nod, adding a small smile as well. She flashed me a warm smile back and I headed for the fabricated backseat.

The ride home was a daze, and I vaguely remember handing the driver the money. I slumped up to my penthouse, in a full-out trance, as if I was being controlled by a remote. I walked into the door, not even bothering to grab a meal before heading for the bed. I was out in less than a minute of falling onto it.

_I stood in a corner, dark and black. I heard people calling my name. Claire! Claire. Claire!_

_But the voices weren't familiar. _

_I couldn't see anything, and every time I tried to move, it seemed like my feet were chained to the floor. I screamed, but nothing answered. My eyes were burning, giving off the impression that tears were on their way. But they never came._

_Suddenly, I felt a cold wet breath on the back of my neck. I felt a string of hard fingers crawl up the back of my arm, making me twitch with each touch. I couldn't breathe._

_I slowly craned my neck around, trying to identify the guest. I was heaving like a maniac, the result of my not breathing for so long. _

_Then I saw it. The blood red eyes, outlined the pitch black pupils. The bared sharp teeth, surrounded by the plump pink lips. The shimmering pale skin. And the devilish grin that spread across the monsters face. _

_I tried to scream, but a cold, hard hand flew up, covering my mouth before a sound could escape. He lifted a finger to his lips with his other hand, signaling that I stay quiet. I managed a small nod of obedience, as I tried to control the wicked spasms of fear running through my spine. _

_He slowly lifted his hand off of my mouth, and I kept to my promise by staying quiet. I knew that if I screamed, he might hurt me right away, before I even had a chance to escape. I clenched my hands at the thought of my death._

_His icy fingertips ran along my neck, grazing my pulse point over and over, as if he was memorizing the plane of my neck. I almost let out a scream, but quickly fastened my lips tight. I just had to give this man whatever he wants. But what exactly was that?_

_After a few unmeasurable moments of his sensitive cold touch, his scarlet eyes darkened. He looked deranged now, reminding me of a hungry mountain lion going after an innocent rabbit. And judging by the direction of his gaze, in this particular case, I was the rabbit. _

_He started to lean in, and I closed my eyes. I held my breath as I felt his frigid lips make contact with the skin on my neck. His lips opened..._

I hit the hardwood floor with a deafening clunk.

"Shit!" A low unfamiliar voice cursed loudly.

I instinctively reached for my blackberry on my bedside table, my hands quivering uncontrollably. _911_, I thought. _That's the number you call. 911_.

I finally felt the cool case on my fingers and yanked it to me, slamming down the buttons as I did so. I lifted the phone up to my ear, trying to look for the intruder. My room was completely dark, aside from the city lights streaming in. I couldn't see anything. Or anybody.

"Hello, what's your situation?" I scanned the room one more time before redirecting my attention to the operator.

"I just woke up and I heard a man's voice in my bedroom", I rushed out, in between rough breaths.

"Okay. Take a deep breath. Is the man still in there?"

"I'm not sure. I can't see him, but my room is completely dark", I whispered, unsure if the intruder was still in hearing distance.

"Okay, miss, where are you?" She sounded so bored, as if I wasn't in a life-threatening situation right now. I fought back the urge to blow her eardrums out and demand her full attention.

"Suite 209, Oakview Apartments, Richland Street. Hurry, please", I squeaked into the phone.

"I'm sending an officer right now", she assured me, her tone bored and lazy. I wouldn't doubt that she was filing her nails right then.

"Can you wait with me. Until they get here, I mean?" I asked, my shaky voice cracking.

Then I dropped the phone, and watched as the screen cracked and went blank. A huge black silhouette now blocked the only light that had been illuminating the dark bedroom. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I could hear my heart palpitating.

"Did you just call the cops?" The deep voice questioned softly. I almost fainted before I realized that the stranger expected me to answer him.

"Yes", I whispered, so quietly that I could barely hear myself. But he sighed, and I knew he had heard my reply. He ran his huge fingers through his hair.

"Well, we better get out of here", he stated, getting closer and closer to my spot on the floor with each giant step.

_We? _

I felt my body stiffen as the stranger's unusually warm arms curled around my body and lifted me off the ground. The blanket I had been wrapped in fell to the floor. I shivered.

I think he looked down at me for an abysmal second before opening the door, but I couldn't see his face to be sure. After a few moments of rambling around in the blank darkness, the lights flooded into the apartment, and he stepped out into the hallway with me still in his arms, cradle style. I looked up to see if I could identify my anonymous kidnapper.

It was _him_.

_Quil._

I couldn't believe what was going on. Why was _he_ here? _Where_ was he taking me?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked with a playful smile, as if we had just had a jolly day in the park and ate ice cream cones like five year olds. Ass.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" I asked, not even bothering to adjust my tone to sound more professional. I was being carried without my consent to an undisclosed location. I didn't have patience for polite and rational behavior.

"Whoa, relax. We are just getting away from the cops, that's all", he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if I was supposed to expect some random character from my childhood to come and steal me away from my house, against my will every night.

"_Relax_? You want me to _relax_? Put me the fuck down Quil before I kick you where it really hurts", I threatened, while giving him the best death glare I could muster up. The only problem was, he wasn't looking at me anymore. No, he was staring at the rooftop of the building next to mine.

That's when I first realized that we were now on the roof deck of my building. The chilly night wind whipped against my skin, creating goosebumps. But I was more preoccupied with the asshole who brought me up here.

Just when I was about to open my mouth, planning to demonstrate the full extent to Claire Mason's wrath, I felt the wind fly out of me.

For a brief second, I was weightless, like a feather floating through the air.

But I was brought back to life when I heard the loud thump of Quil's shoe soles slap the concrete. We were on the roof of the other building now. We had jumped over twenty five feet through the air, over an active city street, forty two stories in the air.

I heard Quil's rumbling, proud, laugh first, gently jolting me with its movements. Why in the _hell_ was he laughing? Did he even _think _that this was funny?

Before I knew it, I was going at him like a monkey on steroids. Or at least that's how I imagined it.

After a few of my punches and worthless slap attempts, he restrained both my arms with one of his hands. I struggled against his grip, but he didn't budge. His whole body was shaking with chuckles now, and I think I saw tears forming in his eyes. I scowled at him until his annoying amusement died off.

"I'm sorry, it's just... your fight tactics were... interesting", he mused, replaying the scene in his head for I'm sure, the millionth time.

"Well, I'm so glad that I could amuse you. Now will you set me down?" I asked more seriously, pulling at my sleeves that had ridden up. Another shiver ran through me. His arms flexed around me.

"Will you run away?"

"No", I lied, praying he would buy it. I wasn't exactly the best actress...

"Not a chance, then", he said, smirking like a true evil mastermind. I shouldv'e known he'd see right through me. I had been told my lying was as conspicuous as a bright red stop sign. That's why I never really bothered to lie.

He walked over to a vent, and sat down on top of it. I sat up straighter, feeling a little awkward being in his abnormally warm lap. And all that was between me and his bare chest was my thin satin nightgown. I was sensing some boundaries being crossed...

"Are you alright?" He asked very softly now, and his brown eyes were innocent and calm. I felt his calmness transfer over to me, almost cooling me off to the point of feeling normal again. But then I remembered why I was here in the first place.

"What the _hell_ do you mean _'Are you alright'_? Damn it, Quil, I'm on the rooftop of a building in the middle of February with only my pajamas on. Do you _think_ I'm alright?" I raged, staring at the sky behind him, rather than his face. It was too... distracting.

"I guess your right", he confessed with an ashamed tone. His eyes were looking at me in a weird way. Almost like he lov..._Wait. Stop Claire. Your getting ahead of yourself._

"You _guess_? Of course I'm right, Quil. Will you explain to me why your'e here anyway?" I demanded with a tone of disgust. I just wanted to curl up in my bed and sleep. Maybe I could hibernate the rest of my miserable life away.

I finally assessed Quil's face after I was sure he wasn't going to answer my question without further argument. His eyes were distant, currently staring into the round white moon.

"Quil?" I repeated, maintaining my irritated tone nicely.

"I will Claire. Just give me a moment to organize my thoughts." _Organize?_

Despite his suspicious request, I refocused my attention to the crocheted frills at the ends of my nightgown. I played with them each, running my fingers along the curves and dips of the shapes.

"Well, originally I came here to see you. But when I reached your apartment door, I heard you whining in your sleep. And you were tossing and turning like you wouldn't believe. You were probably having a nightmare. So, I figured I should go wake you," he paused to look down at my face, "and when I got there, you fell off your bed. Then, you called the cops on me, and well, you know what happened from there on", he finished, his voice soft and mellow.

"Why did you come to see _me_?" I asked, wondering why he'd come to visit. I'd just seen him in La Push, and we weren't exactly close pals anymore.

"I came to apologize. For the way I acted at the bonfire. I didn't mean for you to leave. I was just _shocked_", he said, reusing Emily's words. I could tell he had rehearsed that line. It sounded too put together and staged.

"Apology accepted, or whatever you say", I murmured, readjusting my position in his lap. I pulled my skirt down a little farther. Didn't wanna flash him.

"Could I meet him? You know, your fiance?" He blurted suddenly. I almost said sure, but then I remembered I no longer had a fiance. What a shame.

"Um, he's busy with meetings and stuff..." I improvised, trying to avoid the breakup conversation.

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Claire. _Is _there a fiance?" He asked with a cautious stare constantly searching my face for any give away clues.

I shook my head, not bothering to speak. I was too ashamed. I felt a wet tear roll down my cheek as I tried to hide my face from him.

"Don't cry. _Please_", he begged with a desperate voice. I leaned my head into him, letting the small sobs sneak out.

"We broke up a week ago", I whispered into his shoulder blade. I had been so enthralled with my crying that I hadn't even noticed he had brought my head up to his shoulder, lulling me like a baby.

I felt his head bob, silently listening to my mindless babbles. This is what I needed. I needed a person to listen to my problems. I needed a person to hear my thoughts. I needed a vent.

"I caught him cheating with his secretary", I paused as I heard a gentle rumble in his throat. A growl? "But, that wasn't what hurt. What hurt was that I didn't even care. I didn't care that he was making out with some slut right in front of my eyes."

He nodded again. Then he gently moved me away from his shoulder so that I was facing him head on. His brown eyes were gorgeous, even in the moonlight. Like melted chocolate.

He leaned closer to me, and I felt my breath catch.

Seconds later, his warm lips molded to mine, seeming to catch them on fire with his warmth. He smelled like pine needles and ocean air. He smelled like La Push. He smelled like home.

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><p>OK, hopefully you enjoyed that chapter a ton! And if you want another one soon, go review now! It only takes a few seconds! Just press that button right down there VVV<p> 


	8. Clicking Into Place

Author's Note:

Yes, yes, it is an update! Woohoo! Happy Easter everyone! Enjoy your Quil/Claire fix, and I will be here with another update before you know it. *Hint*-If you review a lot, it will come a lot sooner...

Oh, and before I forget, I started a new imprint story about Seth his OC imprint, bad girl Dakota Harris. It's called 'Yin and Yang', and I hope you check it out!

As always, Happy Reading!

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><p>Stephanie Meyer is the owner of all things Twilight. Which is clearly why she is the epitome of awesomeness. Yes, I made up a word. Don't judge me.<p>

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><p><em>When you're happy like a fool, <em>

_Let it take you over_

_When everything is out, _

_You gotta take it in_

_-One Republic, Good Life_

Ch. 8 Clicking Into Place

I observed out of the square air plane window, admiring the brown and white shades of the mountain tops. His humongous, hot, callused hand was enveloping one of mine, keeping me toasty warm, despite the cold air conditioning inside the jet. It was about two in the afternoon, and the sun was bright in the sky, hiding amongst the fluffy white clouds.

"What's your favorite color?" He asked randomly, provoking a speculative look from me. He shrugged. "I missed out on most of your life, and I want to get to know you. Make up for lost time."

"Black", I answered honestly, but realized I must have sounded depressed. I added, "And white."

"Favorite food?"

"Caviar." He looked puzzled.

"What the hell is that?" I burst into a uncontrolled fit of giggles.

"Fish...eggs", I informed him.

"Oh", he looked a little ashamed, but then the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk. "Favorite Animal?"

I didn't need to think hard about this one. "Wolf."

He grinned brightly, and I knew his ego had just been boosted majorly.

"Favorite music?"

"Don't have any", I answered candidly. A CEO doesn't have time for listening to music.

"Favorite Movie?"

"Harry Potter Series", I answered softly, my face reddening. He raised his thick dark eyebrows at my response. "Okay, I'll admit it, I am kind of a Sci-Fi nerd. We all have our faults."

He smiled, increasing my blush, but continued with the interrogation. "Favorite T.V. Show?"

"Law and Order." I _was_ a sucker for crime shows...

"Most embarrassing moment?" Oh, so we were moving on to my life memories now. _Fun._

"I puked on a kid during my fifth grade musical. From then on I was 'Barf-face Mason'", I admitted, cringing at the memory.

He bit his lip, obviously trying to hide the blatant laughter that wanted to bust through. I scowled at him, and he regained his serious expression.

In truth, there was another more embarrassing moment than that, but it had to do with a mean girl sticking a vibrator in my backpack and turning it on during Biology class in tenth grade.

As if being humiliated in front of the entire student body wasn't enough torture, I had gotten suspended for a week, and grounded by my mother for even longer. But I sure as hell was not telling Quil about that one. He might blow an artery.

"High school boyfriends?" He questioned, trying to look nonchalant as he redirected his gaze to the airplane window.

"Nope. Didn't even go to prom. The only guy I ever dated was Dylan, and that was college." He winced at Dylan's name, but all in all, looked glad that I hadn't ever really been with anyone else.

But then a grave expression came unto his face, and he looked down, twiddling his thumbs uneasily and avoiding my eyes. "Did you ever... with him?"

I felt my eyes bulge a couple of inches out of their sockets.

I knew exactly what he was referring to. I was a little taken aback with his curiosity, and a little embarrassed to be answering such a personal question. But, if what he told me after he kissed me last night was true, we would have to face this question at some point. I was his imprint after all.

When he first told me, on the roof top of that building, I was a totally blind-sided. I didn't really know what to think. I mean, even the word, imprinting, was so animalistic. Like mating, something from Call of the Wild or the Discovery Channel. It just seemed so... _weird_. But, it had made so much sense.

I mean, I had always felt like my life had a missing piece, ever since I was a child, after leaving La Push. I had always felt like something wasn't there, something wasn't quite right.

But, as I got older, I got used to the empty feeling, convincing myself it was just my overactive thinking, or some phase I had been going through. But now, after Quil's explanation, everything fit together. And it also explained why letting Dylan go had been so easy for me.

Now, knowing that my life soul mate was this goofy werewolf man that had been my best friend at age seven, the last thirteen years of my life seemed so insignificant. So wasteful. I had been missing out on a lot.

So, with Quil now in my arms, I took a major chance. I took a risk. I stepped out on a damn high limb, thousands of miles above a swirling pit of hungry sharks. But for once, it felt good. _REALLY_ good.

I had made a life-changing decision.

I was moving back to La Push, quitting my job as a CEO(I already had made enough money to survive the rest of my life in the lap of luxury anyway), and looking forward to being with my soul mate, 24/7.

Quil had practically popped a vein in his copper forehead when I told him I would move to La Push to live with him. I think he was expecting me to blow him off and continue to live in a penthouse and work like a maniac for the rest of my life, despite his confession about the imprinting. I mean, I could be a little cruel at times, but I wasn't _that _bad.

Sitting here in this plane had also given me a lot of time to register Quil's words. I was pretty sure the imprinting was double-sided, because thinking of Quil and I as a couple definitely began to sink in. In a good way.

I mean, we had only been 'together' for like four hours now, but there were some...uh, _interesting_ thoughts scrambling through my brain at record speeds. Things like...

My whole entire life, I had never even imagined having kids. The whole pregnancy/birthing process kind of creeped me out, and raising kids never seemed to be a dream either. Weirdly enough though, when I looked at Quil right now, I could see myself having his children. My stomach rounded with his baby in my womb. It just felt so right, so natural. Like breathing.

But another one of the insane thoughts running through my mind was how much emotion I felt towards him. Literally it seemed like there was rope between us, holding us together, never letting us separate more than five feet apart. And my heart _throbbed_ at the mere thought of cutting that rope. Of Quil moving more than a few feet away from me.

Who feels like that about someone that they just started 'dating' less than six hours ago? I mean come on, it was downright bizarre.

"The plane will now begin descending into Seattle's airport. Thank you ladies and gentlemen, and enjoy your stay in Washington", the pilot boomed over the loudspeaker.

I squeezed Quil's hand nervously, and he flashed me an encouraging smile. He had called Emily to tell her that I was coming home, so I knew she would be waiting for us as we got off. I hadn't left in anyone's best graces, so I was a little uneasy about the reunions, to say the least.

We walked out into the terminal, hand-in-hand, and I immediately spotted Emily, who looked like if she smiled any wider her cheekbones may pop off of her face. She sprinted over to Quil and I, laughing giddily like a toddler with a massive lollipop.

"I knew it! I knew it would happen! Oh, Quil, Claire, I'm so happy for both of you! You are such a nice-looking couple", Emily gushed, running out of air as she quickly embraced us both.

"Well, thanks. I've waited a long time for this", Quil told Emily, brushing his thumb across the back of my hand as he did so.

He'd told me the previous night that he had been waiting for me his entire life, never knowing if he'd ever see me again. Of course, I'd felt guilty, but he wouldn't have that, either, claiming that it was all better now, and it was no one's fault.

"Me too", I blurted, beaming ear-to-ear with joy. Life was finally clicking into place for me, and I had to admit, it felt pretty damn good.

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><p>Thoughts? REVIEW! I will update sooner if you do... the little blue button is right down there...all you have to do is click it...<p> 


	9. Back For Good

Author's Note:

Well, hear I am again with another chapter to read. I want to remind you all again that I have a new story surrounding Seth and his imprint, and I would appreciate it if you all checked it out. Thanks, as usual, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. And REVIEW, because the more reviews I get, the sooner I update.

**REVIEW GOAL: 35**

Happy Reading!

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><p>I do not own anything related to Twilight. If I did, I would be swimming in Turks and Caicos right now...but since I don't own Twilight, and don't receive any of the royalties from the book sales, I'm not. Boo.<p>

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><p><em>All my life My love's been waiting for you<em>

_ All my life My heart's been waiting too _

_Don't you know I need you _

_And adore you _

_All my life I'll give to only you_

_-Mariah Carey, All My Life_

Ch. 9 Back For Good

I sat in Quil's heated lap in the backseat of Emily's rickety minivan, peering out the glass window, through the sheets of pouring rain, at the town that I was sure I would never see again. The town that I had made a personal pact to stay away from for the rest of my living existence. I almost let out a laugh. Funny how things can change so quickly.

"What are you thinking about?" Quil's soft rumbling voice pulled me out of my mind, as he brushing back a few flyaway strands of hair that had glued themselves to my face with his massive affectionate fingers.

"How fast everything is falling into place", I admitted truthfully, craning my neck to face him full-on. His chocolate eyes were even with mine, sending my heart sputtering in random beats and rhythms.

Standing up, he was at least a foot and a half taller than me, being I was around 5'5, but when we were sitting, I could reach his face, because our eyes were on the same level.

At first I saw a faint smile cross his lips, but it rapidly turned into a distressed frown. His black eyebrows knitted together, and I found myself wanting nothing more than to smooth those furrowed brows back out.

"What?" I asked, a little startled to find myself gasping for air. It's like I had forgotten how to breathe when I saw Quil's apprehensive expression. We were connected in so many ways...

"This is too fast. We're moving too fast for you. _Shit_, Claire I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry. I just- I've been waiting for so long that I just got ahead of myself. Shit, god damn it", he muttered under his breath, rambling on while shaking his head back and forth, slightly pushing me off his lap in the process. _What was he talking about?_

I quickly launched myself back up onto his warm lap, placing my slender hands on either side of his angled jaw, forcing his panic-stricken eyes back to my face. I felt the tinges of guilt, sadness, and extreme worry wash through me, no doubt transferred from his own current emotional state. It was like we were bonded in a way that was unexplainable. What one felt, the other felt, as well.

"No, Quil, listen to me. This is not too fast. Not at all. I've been waiting for this my whole life, too, I just didn't know it. Trust me, if anything, it's long overdue. I think we're granted a free speeding pass to catch up", I joked, giving him the best reassuring crooked grin I could.

His face immediately reverted back to it's original smiling state. The sexy, teasing, normal Quil grin that made my heart palpitate and my knees buckle. _My_ Quil.

I heard a high-pitched, breathy sigh from the front seat. Of course Emily would be listening in on our private conversation, I mean, let's be honest, it was Emily. The queen of romanticism. The guru of love. The lover of all things mushy and gushy.

As if on cue, her soprano voice chimed, "I just love days like these." I could easily picture the dazed look in her eyes as she made that comment, she would've looked exactly like some cheesy actress of a daytime soap opera.

We fell into a comfortable silence as we drove down the narrow country roads until we reached Emily and Sam's cozy cottage. I noticed Quil was absentmindedly twirling some of my crow black hair around his fingers as I gazed out the windows. I tried to ignore it, but my stomach was doing anxious flips over and over again.

Emily was the first to hop out of the car, sprinting inside to, I assumed, greet her imprinter, Sam. Quil had told me about all the imprints and their imprinters when he'd first told me about the whole process. I could definitely see the love between Emily and Sam, even before I'd known about the whole imprinting thing, but now, knowing what exactly made their relationship so intense, it kind of tied the loose strings together. Like so many other things lately, it made every piece click together, like a puzzle.

"Are you sure you _want_ to move back here?" Quil's unbelievable question interrupted my thoughts. _Could this guy get a clue? _I think I need to like hit him with something to get my point across. Of course I would move here. It's where he lived.

"Are fricking kidding me?" I asked, slapping him lightly on the forearm to show him my disbelief. He shrugged.

"I don't want you to ever feel pressured. I mean, obviously _I_ love you, and I always will, but if _you_ don't want to do something, don't ever feel like you have to", he stated firmly, wrapping his toned arms around me and squeezing me tightly into his heated embrace. _If only I could stay here the rest of my life... _

"Ah-hmm", I hummed, unable and unwilling to come up with any other form of response at the moment.

But just like all good things, the heated embrace had to end. Quil gradually pulled away, but not before kissing my cheek ever-so-gently, leaving a blazing burning sensation there. I was just about to ask for a little more...

"So, you ready to go unpack?" He questioned, his charming grin beamy and jubilant. I simply nodded, too flustered to respond with my mouth when my face was was so close to his. He chuckled when he started to get up and I clung on to him like a baby.

"You have to let go for a second, honey", he whispered, sending prickly chills down my spine. I blushed, finally realizing my odd behavior and released my grip on his shirt collar. He jumped out of the car at the speed of lightning, and wasted no time reaching his long arms out for me. And I wasted no time flinging myself into them.

It was still raining madly, cats and dogs, but Quil didn't let a single drop reach my body. He hunched his back over, and because he was holding me cradle-style in his arms, he acted like a human shield, blocking any droplets from hitting me.

He rushed into the house, kicking the front door open, sending a nasty creak through the metal door hinges, and set me down gently on the woven rug. I barely made it a step into the house before I felt crashing bodies on my legs. I looked down at the smiling, chubby, russet faces of my cousins.

"Claire's back! Yay!" They chorused, jumping up and down excitedly and pulling on my jeans. But, instead of my normal reaction, of wanting to bat them off my body, I felt something different. I envisioned Quil and I having children...

"Brandon, Anna, leave Claire alone! She just got back, let her relax before you bother her!" Sam's commanding voice boomed, stopping the bouncing children in their steps.

They both released their holds on my pant legs and Emily ushered them into the kitchen, shooting Sam an irritated glare. Clearly Emily wasn't the disciplinarian of the family.

Quil's warm hand suddenly wrapped itself around mine, enveloping it in his warmth, and he shot me a small smile as he towed me into the kitchen after Emily.

Emily was stirring something that smelled gourmet at the stove, while the kids sat at the dining room table, coloring on some blank, white computer paper. Quil took a seat at the end of the table, and pulled a silent me into his lap. I didn't protest, glad to be in his warm, strong arms.

Sam followed in after a minute or so, his expression grave and glum. He strode over to Emily's side, kissing her scarred forehead before capturing her lips into a compassionate kiss. It was too personal to watch, and I had to turn away.

But within seconds, the kiss was over, and Sam whispered something into Emily's ear. She frowned, but nodded, abruptly turning her face back to the stove top. Sam looked pained, but headed out the back door without another word.

"What's wrong, Emily?" I asked, curiously watching Sam's giant figure running into the woods that secluded the house.

"Sam has to go to work now", she replied, her voice dreary and monotone. I caught a glimpse of Quil's expression out of the corner of my eye. He was staring off into space, his thick lips pulled into a slight grimace.

"Like, wolf-work?" I questioned, naturally lowering my voice at the supernatural words. Suddenly, they both broke out of their dreary stupors, and chuckled at my hushed tone. I blushed, but rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, I suppose you could call it that", Emily finally answered, the giggles still pouring out of her. I didn't have to think about my next question. I whipped my head around to meet Quil's attentive chocolate eyes.

"Can I see you as a wolf?"

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><p><strong>REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! :) I will update sooner if you do... GOAL: 35 REVIEWS<strong>


	10. Making Up For Lost Time

Author's Note:

Okay, well, here is another update for you all. I apologize for the long wait, I have been on vacation in South Carolina for the last week, so I didn't have any time to update. Make sure to review, and I hope you enjoy it. And to those of you who did review, thanks so much, and be sure to keep reviewing. To those of you who read the story and don't review, please review! Anyways, lots of fluffy goodness in this one. Read on Quil and Claire lovers, read on!

And if your'e interested in what Quil and Claire from my story look like, I uploaded the pictures on my photobucket account. The url is .com/albums/gg509/Mojohd16/

If youv'e seen the Twilight movies, I have the same Quil that is in them. Claire is different from her actress in Breaking Dawn, well, obviously because she is an adult in my story. Check it out!

Okay, okay, enough blabbering.

Happy Reading!

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><p><em>Dear Stephanie Meyer,<em>

_I really, really, really wish that I could convince you to share Twilight with me._

I do not own anything Twilight related.

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><p><em>What day is it? And in what month?<em>

_This clock never seemed so alive_

_I can't keep up and I can't back down_

_I've been losing so much time_

_-You and Me, Lifehouse_

Ch.10 Making Up For Lost Time

"Are you sure Claire? I mean, you haven't seen me since you were like, seven. I don't want you getting scared", Quil said seriously, looking at me with an assesive expression. I could not believe he was treating me like a child.

"You have to be kidding me, Quil. I'm not a baby. I think I can handle seeing a wolf", I muttered, shifting my body so that I was barely touching him. I felt his muscles tighten.

"I'm not trying to treat you like a baby, Claire. Trust me, I know your'e not a baby anymore. But, it's just that I finally got you back, and I really don't want to scare you away. It'll kill me", he whispered softly into my ear, and I couldn't doubt the honesty in his words.

Emily and the kids suddenly disappeared, and I was thankful she was giving us a little privacy. I turned my head to face him. His chocolate eyes were hesitant and pained. They reminded me of a wounded puppy's._ God._

"You won't scare me away, okay? I won't leave you. _Ever_", I stated sternly, trying as hard as I could to make him believe me. He had to. He had to trust me.

He seemed really torn and I could see him debating in his mind. His eyebrows were furrowed, his mind deeply engrossed in thought.

"Okay, I'll go phase right now, but you need to remember one thing," he paused, making sure I was fully listening, "look into my eyes."

With that, he stood up and set me down on the floor gently, almost as if I weighed nothing. He kissed my forehead and headed out to the back door and into the backyard. I watched as his muscular figure vanished into the forest, nervously waiting for my chocolate wolf to emerge.

I mean, I really did want to see the wolf again, I was just slightly worried that I was just imagining everything. I just needed to see it, somehow prove to myself that he was real and that I wasn't dreaming or something. That, and I knew it would make Quil happy to know that I loved both sides of his life. Human and wolf.

Suddenly, I saw a few of the outerlying tree branches rustle. My breath caught as the dark brown, silky fur materialized in between the emerald leaves.

Two giant paws graciously padded the grass as I stepped outside to greet my wolf. He covered the distance that seperated us in a matter of a couple seconds. His large body remained about ten feet away from me, and I made eye contact. It was him. His chocolate brown eyes were the same.

I smiled, attempting to let him know that I wasn't afraid or scared of him. I slowly walked towards his massive body, and I think I saw a small grin form on his face. He knelt down onto the ground so that I could pet his head.

I ran my fingers through his warm and smooth fur, letting the feeling tingle through my fingers. He let out a small purring sound, telling me that my petting felt good. I softly laid my head against his neck. He still smelled like human-Quil, too, which was also reassuring.

We sat together like that for a long time, simply listening to each other's steady breathing.

The rare, bright sun was beating down on us from it's place in the sky, warming our bodies. Quil was probably burning up with his dark fur attracting the heat.

"You can phase back now, if you want", I mumbled, pushing my body off the grass and standing up. My wolf stood up, too, towering over me by a good four feet or so. He nuzzled my neck softly, eyeing me the entire time, before walking slowly back towards the woods.

"Quil?" I whispered, knowing he would hear me.

His head whipped around, his chocolate eye's connecting with mine immediately.

"Thanks", I whispered, letting a large smile cross my face.

Quil smiled back, without showing his sharp teeth. Then he proceeded back into the trees.

Minutes later my Quil reappeared, pulling his shirt over his head as he made his way over to me. A huge grin was plastered unto his face, and I couldn't help but smiling, too.

"You wouldn't believe what I just saw", I said, feigning shock.

"What?" He asked, playing along.

"This huge wolf. He was gonna eat me, I swear!" I exclaimed theatrically, overexaggerating my facial expressions. Quil let out a little chuckle, but regained his composure.

"Do you know what happens to girls that cry wolf?" He asked, a fake frown composing his demeanor.

"What?" I asked, honestly a little curious.

"They are tickled to death!" He yelled, his large hands coming to my stomach before I had a chance to react. I couldn't stop laughing as he tickled me to the ground.

After a few minutes of the tickle-fest, and my stomach ached from laughing so much, I sat comfortably in his warm lap. He was softly running his fingers through my bobbed hair, and my fingers were playing with a thick piece of grass that I had picked off the ground.

"Really though, thanks Quil. It meant a lot to me", I whispered, running my fingers along the strip of grass.

"I'm glad you weren't scared of me", he whispered back, his fingers brushing the skin on my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Quil have you ever dated anyone? I mean, while I was gone", I asked casually, although the question had been toying with me for awhile now.

It really shouldn't be such a big deal, right? I've been gone for thirteen years of his life, I wouldn't blame him for wanting some sort of relationship. But the idea of him dating someone else, it actually made my stomach churn. He was mine.

"No. After you left, I just kind of fell into a hole. The guys, mostly Jake and Embry, tried to get me to go on a few blind dates and all that jazz, but it didn't feel right. I could see the girl in front of me, but I didn't feel anything towards her. It was like I was staring at a rock. They were there, but that was about it", he mumbled, his chest rumbling softly against my back.

I truly felt an immense amount of relief from his words. It was nice to know that I was his one and only. Even when I was away for thirteen years, he remained loyal. If only I could say the same for myself...

"Um, Claire, I know I already asked you, but you never had the chance to answer. Uh, with you and Dylan..." He asked, his voice soft and wavering. My muscles tightened when I realized what he was talking about.

"Oh, um, I remember. Yeah. We did", I mumbled, utterly embarassed. Here Quil was, all innocent and true and completely loyal to me, and here I was telling him that I wasn't.

I didn't need to face him to know how disappointed he was. His hands left my hair.

"I'm really sorry", I whispered, splitting the strand of grass in half with my fingers. I couldn't look Quil in the eye, not after I just admitted that I wasn't a virgin.

"No, don't be. It's not your fault. I guess I was just being stupid. I had this unrealistic idea in my head that I was gonna be your first and all that. It was dumb", he muttered, almost as if he was talking to himself rather than me.

"It's not dumb. It's sweet", I whispered, plucking a new strand of grass.

"I'm not a virgin, either", he softly said, his voice dripping with regret. I kind of figured he wasn't. I mean, he imprinted on me when he was like, seventeen with a hot body, so I wouldn't doubt his virginity being lost by then.

"I sort of guessed."

"Claire?"

"Hmm?" I wondered, twisting the strands of grass together.

"Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?" He asked, his warm hands finding my hair again.

Well, up until a couple days ago, I didn't. Now, there was no doubt in my mind.

"Yeah", I answered back.

"So do I."

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><p>What did you think? Let me know! Comment please, I love to read them! Plus, if you checked out my ClaireQuil photobucket characters, what do you think of 'em?

P.S. If your'e looking for more Quil/Claire fanfiction, check out WaNderLuSt2. She has a good story titled, "The Warren Sisters", and it's a great read. Check it out!


	11. Advice

Author's Note:

Sorry for the long wait, I have been busy catching up on all my homework that I missed over my vacation to South Carolina. I hope you all had a great May Day! I can't believe I only have twenty days of school left, I'm so excited for summer! Well, enough of my excessive rambling...there's a new chapter to read. Enjoy, and comment. New chapter the more comments I receive.

Happy Reading!

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><p>I do not own any Twilight related things. If I did however, I wouldn't share.<p>

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><p><em>You can't hurry love, <em>

_No, you just have to wait, _

_You gotta trust, give it time, _

_No matter how long it takes_

_-Diana Ross, You Can't Hurry Love_

Ch. 11 Advice

A few months had passed since I had come back to La Push with Quil. Life was sweeter than it had ever been. I was currently living with Emily, Sam, and their kids, while I looked for a house. I also was looking for a possible job, not because I needed the money, but more because I missed getting up for work and spending my time doing constructive things. I spent the majority of my days wandering around La Push and re-meeting all the natives, because Quil was on patrol.

I got a chance to see Billy Black again, the last time I saw him being when I was seven and he showered me with gifts of candy, despite Quil's protests about how they would spoil my dinner. I also ran into Sue Clearwater at the general store and she squeezed me to smitherines and burst into tears over 'how much I've grown'. I fought back the comment that came to my mind, 'Duh, I've grown. The last time you saw me I was seven.'

I spent my nights with Quil, but not in _that_ way.

He would pick me up from Emily's at four in the afternoon, when his patrol was over, and we'd do whatever we felt like doing. Some days we went to First Beach, just sitting on the driftwood trees and rocky shore until the sun went down. Other days we drove up to Port Angeles or Seattle and explored the streets. We went to the movies once, and watched some hilarious comedy starring Will Ferrel.

Another day we went to a pack bonfire, and I got the chance to meet the whole pack, seventeen members strong, and all their imprints and kids. It was a huge amount of people to feed, but Emily somehow managed it all.

But whenever the sun went down, Quil would drive me back to Sam and Emily's cottage style house, giving me a brief, chaste kiss for goodnight. I was thankful for his patience with me, considering he had been waiting a long time to have me, but I was even a little frustrated with his snail pacing.

I mean, sure we had only been together for a couple months, but still. Some couples had slept with each other in that time frame. Quil hadn't even gotten to second base yet. He just gave me a few pecks on the cheek. Nothing less. Nothing more.

I also didn't exactly want to come out and say 'Hurry up and suck my face off, Quil', even though that's what I was thinking every time we were together. So, I came to the conclusion that I needed something to get Quil's attention, and send him down the path I was already on.

So, I decided who better to ask advice for on my relationship with my imprinter other than another imprint, right? Emily was going to be my source. I just needed to get her alone for a few minutes.

I found her one morning, after Sam had left for patrol, flipping through cooking channels on the tiny television, while the kids were on the living room floor playing with some Legos. It seemed like the ideal time for the confrontation I had planned over and over in my head. I smiled, and headed over to her direction.

"Morning Em, how're you?"

"Oh, great Claire. How'd you sleep?" She politely asked, grinning brighter than the sunlight that rarely appeared in La Push.

"Fine, fine. I was actually wanting to ask you something. Something sort of...private", I mumbled, looking pointedly in the kids direction.

"Oh. Okay then. Well, Brandon, Anna, you two go play in your room now. Mommy will be in there in a few minutes", she said, speaking to her black-haired children. They hopped up and ran out of the room playing some chase game and squealing like crazy.

Once we were alone, Emily put some water in a teapot on the stove burner and sat down on the sofa next to me. She pulled my hands into her lap, as if we were going to have a deep heart-to-heart conversation. _Wait 'till she finds out that all I want to know is how to get into Quil's pants._

"So...what did you want to talk about?" She asked, her eyes glistening in curiosity.

"Well", I paused, thinking of how exactly to word this and not creep her out, "I need some help, actually."

"Sure. I'll be glad to help, but what do you need help with", Emily was slowly getting closer and closer to me as her curiosity increased.

"Um, actually, I'm not sure how to put this...but, Quil and I's relatio-" I began, but was cut off by Emily's voice.

"Let me guess? You want to sleep with the man already", she finished for me, with a knowing grin. I wasn't exactly going to use those crude of words, but uh, she got my point.

"Pretty much", I admitted, trying to ignore the heat rising on my cheeks.

"Well, I've heard that one before", she mumbled, most likely to herself. I couldn't help but wonder what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?" I inquired, trying to assess Emily's calm face.

"Almost all the imprints have had issues like that. The imprinters think we're like glass or something, like we'll break. It annoys us all, so much", she explained, staring off into the distance as if reliving something.

"So...what do you do about it? How do I get him to notice me differently", I wondered, gripping her hand a little tighter, trying to catch her attention.

"Well, I'll have to call Kim and Rach for some help, but I have a few ideas..." she said with an evil smirk that didn't seem to belong on Emily's sweet face. I was a little scared myself for what she had planned.

Later on that day, after Emily and Rachel had showed up to the Ulley household, I sat on the sofa with the three evil masterminds staring directly back at me, a sinister grin on each one's face.

Suddenly, they grouped together in a tight huddle and started whispering. I strained to listen in, but still could only make out a few words and phrases. Which...wasn't much to go off of.

_'smell good if'_

_'set him on fire'_

_'chicken'_

_'maybe she'll fall'_

_'full moon'_

_'dog pee'_

Definitely no help.

I waited anxiously for a few more minutes, trying to string the words together that I had heard. I came up with absolutely nothing.

Finally, after what seemed like years and years of waiting, the three masterminds turned around and faced me with the same evil grins as before. I gulped.

"Operation 'Get Claire in Bed' is commenced", Rachel boomed, as Kim and Emily ran over, grabbing my arms and dragged me out of the living room and into the bathroom.

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><p>What do you think they're going to do to Claire? Let me know what you thought of the chapter, and what you think is going to happen? Review!<p> 


	12. Butterflies

Author's Note:

I am so sorry! I have been sort of a pile lately with my writing and I am so sorry that I have been slacking off. Today we had our conference tournament for golf...and I tied for third overall in conference. I am literally bouncing off the walls. Anyways, I am deeply sorry about the wait for this chapter, and I will try my best to keep the updates frequent. Life kind of gets in the way of my writing sometimes. You know. Thanks for the reviews from the last chapter. I enjoyed them heartily. So, make sure you keep up the reviewing! I update sooner when I get more reviews.

Happy Reading!

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><p>I asked Santa Claus for Christmas to give me the Twilight Saga. He declined my request.<p>

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><p>Ch. 12 Butterflies<p>

_Looking at you, _

_holding my breath,_

_For once in my life, I'm scared to death,_

_I'm taking a chance, letting you__ inside._

_- First Time, Lifehouse_

"Really? Come on, guys. At least let me look. I have been sitting in this chair for two hours without peeking once. I need to know what you guys did to me. Please!" I begged, shooting Emily, Rachel, and Kim my best puppy dog face. They snorted in unison at me. So much for guilt-tripping them.

"Claire, if you look at yourself, you'll think we over-did it, because you never doll up. And chances are, you'll try to reverse our expert efforts and set us all back two hours. So...no. You don't get to see. Sorry", Rachel told me, smirking as she did so. I started to feel nervous.

If she said that I would think they had overdone it, that meant they had overdone it. Big time. Oh god, what if I looked like some pageant dipstick with hot pink lips and neon blue eyeshadow. _I am so screwed..._

I looked back at my three captors, trying to plead with my eyes. No such luck. They all just smiled as they admired their overdone work. I was somewhat plotting to steal the handheld mirror away from Rachel, but decided against it when I noticed that her arm muscles were a lot larger than mine. Which wasn't saying much because my arms were wimpy little twigs since I never had time to work out.

"Okay, well, we called Quil at his grandpa's house earlier, and told him to pick you up for a date tonight at seven. It's about 6:50, so he'll be here pretty soon", Emily said, smiling softly as she cautiously searched my face for my reaction to her news.

_NOOOOOO! NO, NO, NO! They invited Quil for a 'date'? Without telling me? And they did my makeup? Crap._

"Don't freak out, please, Claire? Quil was so excited, he asked me about five times on his outfit. He also spent the whole afternoon on the internet looking up resturants in Seattle, at least that's what Sam told me", Emily continued, trying to change the, most likely, grimace on my face into a smile. And it worked. For the most part.

Quil was nervous. To go on a date. With me. Claire Mason. He spent a lot of time preparing for this date. I needed to pull it together, and fast.

Then another thought hit me like a ton of bricks.

"I don't have a DRESS!" I wailed, my anxious jitters coming through in my voice. Kim yanked my flailing arms down to my sides and stared me head on.

"Don't worry, Claire. We have one already picked out. Your my size, so you can wear it. I'll go get it right now, and you can put it on, okay? No worries", she assured me, her quiet, but strong voice calming some of the nerves flowing through my body.

I nibbled anxiously on the inside of my cheek as I waited impatiently for Kim to come back to the room. Emily and Rachel were quietly whispering to each other, but I couldn't focus enough to strain and listen in on whatever their conversation was about.

"Here it is!" Kim announced, and I looked up to see the dress that would be mine for the night.

It was gorgeous.

It was perfect.

It was something Quil would love.

"It's, it's..." I stuttered, looking for the right words to describe the awe I was feeling.

The dress was a short, cocktail length dress, that would only reach my knees. It had a sweetheart neckline, and had a tight bodice. It puffed out into a bubble style skirt around my waist. It was black in color, making it spohisticated, yet still fun and flirty. Perfect date material.

"Perfect, I know", Kim finished for me, her smile lighting up her face when she saw that I liked it. She handed it over to me and gave a satisfied little smirk. Rachel and Kim perked up, too, when they saw how much my mood had changed.

"Oh, and here are the shoes. They're size sevens. I bought them the other day, but they ended up being a little too small for me. So, I figure you can keep 'em. Emily said you wear size 6, so they should fit", Rachel said, grabbing a pair of black patent pumps out of a plastic bag at her feet and handing them to me.

"Thanks. So much." I mumbled, looking back and forth between the two amazing pieces of clothing in front of me. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all...

"Okay, well, Quil will be here any second, so hurry up and put those on. You can look in the mirror now, since you have almost no time to change anything. Although, I don't see why you'd want to. You look gorgeous, sweetie. Have fun tonight", Emily said, exiting the small bathroom as Kim and Rachel followed behind her. Kim winked at me and Rachel made a kissy face.

I smiled and mumbled a soft goodbye before grabbing the mirror off the side of the tub and lifting it up to my face.

They were right.

It wasn't overdone.

It was perfect, again.

My dark brown eyes were highlighted perfectly by some musky, dark rosy eyeshadow that shimmered slightly. My naturally dark and full eyelashes were even longer than usual and incredibly thicker. My copper cheeks had been covered with peachy blush that brightened my face and made my natural skin color glow. My lips had on a thin layer of mauve colored lipstick, and a clear coat of lip gloss. My entire face lit up beautifully, still looking natural rather than overdone.

They had pulled my hair into a french braid at the crown of my head, and made a bun with the hair in the back. It was really pretty and looked effortless, despite my knowing of how time consuming the actual act of braiding it was. They had also sprayed some coconut shiner into it, which made my black hair look very healthy and pretty.

I pulled myself away from the mirror, remebering how little time I had left before Quil was scheduled to arrive. I yanked them both on carefully, being sure not to ruin my flawless makeup job. Rachel had been right, the shoes fit perfectly. I smiled happily as I looked at myself one last time in the mirror.

Just as I grabbed my light coat and gave Emily one last thank-you kiss and hug, I heard the familiar doorbell ring. Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach, making me feel like a teen again.

I gave Emily a nervous glance, half-pleading for her to answer the door with my eyes. She seemed to catch on to my drift and shook her head.

"You do it, Claire. Your'e a big girl." She grinned when as she remembered the last time she had told me that. It was before I had left La Push when I was seven.

I gulped audibly and walked with shaky knees to the wooden door.

I gently grasped the brass door knob with my already sweaty palm and turned it.

The light from the orange and pink sunset hit me as I soaked in the sight of my date. My imprint.

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><p>Next chapter is the date scene. So...what'd you think? Let me know and review!<p>

By the way...I love you guys. I have some pretty amazing reviewers.


	13. Alone in a Crowded Room

Author's Note:

I can't say the phrase 'I'm sorry' enough, guys. I really mean it. I know I am way passed my normal updating time, which averages right around a week. But...like any good author, I have excuses. Plenty, actually. I have finals coming up(the last day of school is this Thursday, which in turn, means I'll have more time for writing...yay!), and my golf team made it to Sections, which is also very exciting, so I have been practicing for that. And...I have this major vocal audition for a choral group that I am totally 'biting my nails' nervous for two days from now. So...hopefully that goes well. Anyways, enough about my hectic life, and more about Quil and Claire's newly sprung romance. This is 'most' of the date. I have to save the next chapter for..._cough_...you'll see.

Link for Claire's date outfit on polyvore cgi/set?id=49757464

Thanks for the reviews, as always, love them. Write me more.

Happy Reading!

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><p>I own many things. My guitar. My books. My mind. But, I have to admit...I don't own Twilight.<p>

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><p><em>Have you ever been alone in a crowded room <em>

_well I'm here with you_

_I said the world could be burning _

_'til there's nothing but dark blue_

_Just dark blue_

_-Jack's Mannequin, Dark Blue_

Ch.13 Alone in a Crowded Room

I raked my eyes over his toned body slowly, taking in his magnificent appearance.

He was wearing shiny, black dress shoes that had been clearly polished recently. He wore very dark washed denim jeans that were free of any holes or stains, not resembling the normal, messy shorts he usaully wore. His broad chest was covered with a white dress shirt, also free of imperfections, but he didn't button up the top few, revealing a juicy glimpse of his tan pecs to tease my eyes with.

His eyes were bright and his white teeth were being showcased in his glorious smile that radiated happiness to my soul. His black, cropped hair was slight toulsed, with a hint of gel visible. He smelled like cologne, but his musky, woodsy scent that I loved was still in there, too.

"Enjoying the view?" He joked, lifting his arms from his sides and gesturing towards his body with an amused grin on his face. I felt my face redden.

"Little bit", I tried to tease back, but he could see my embarassment through my tomato face.

Then it was his turn. His eyes trailed over my body, rendering me self-concious and nervous. I was a little more exposed than I ever had been with Quil around. And the unspoken word of '_romance_' hung awkwardly in the atmosphere surrounding us.

"You look beautiful", Quil said, his chocolate eyes, darker than before, met mine again with a small smile. I blushed, again. I had a feeling that blushing was going to be a common occurance on this particular date.

"Uh...thanks. So do you", I managed to get out, before realizing my mistake and adding, "I-I mean handsome." Oh, god._ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

He chuckled at me momentarily before regaining his composure.

"So...you all ready to go?" His hands found his jean pockets and he rocked back and forth on his heels slightly, waiting for my reply. I could see he was a little nervous, which in turn, relaxed me a tiny bit. To know that we both were nervous. I wasn't the only one.

"Yep", I said. But under my breath I added, "Ready as I'll ever be." He didn't seem to notice and turned on his heel towards his rickety truck that was parked next to Emily and Sam's mini van.

He opened the door for me, and I jumped up to the tall vehicle. I settled into the passenger seat as Quil walked around to the driver's side.

The ride to Port Angeles was fairly silent. I thought there would be more tension in the air, but really, it felt pretty natural. It always had with Quil.

At first, Quil and I small-talked, the weather, Emily and Sam's newly announced fifth pregnancy, and Quil's upcoming birthday. It was easy talk, nothing was forced or uncomfortable. It was just nice.

After we passed a road sign that signified that Port Angeles was less than fifteen miles away, the conversation started to change unto a different route.

"My favorite part of you is you're eyes. They remind me of honeysuckle", Quil had said, turning his head away from the road and staring into my _'honeysuckle'_ eyes with this intense gaze that made me feel a tad bit nauseous. More like a lot bit nauseous.

I blinked once, twice, a third time, but his eyes never disconnected from mine.

He must've accepted the fact that I wasn't going to ask him to elaborate.

"Do you know why?" He questioned, a playful glimmer shining through his eyes. I just shook my head, knowing I wouldn't be able to form a coherent sentence at the moment.

"Because when I look at them, I feel like nothing will ever hurt me. Like as long as I can see your eyes, everything else'll be okay. Like as long as your'e with me, nothing will be too difficult to handle."

That was the moment in which I felt like I might spontaneously combust. Maybe it would have been a good thing if I had, but I didn't. Instead I opened my damn mouth and embarassed myself before I realized what I was doing.

"Do you know what I love about you the most?" I asked him. I panicked after I realized I was asking this question out loud, towards him. Crap.

"No, what?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with eagerness and excitment. Oh, shoot me. Before I die of embarassment. Why did I have to open my fat mouth? Why?

"Uh...well...I, um, I like your..." _don't say muscles, don't say muscles "_...uh, your nose." _What? Your nose? I seriously need help. I suck at lying. _

_'Totally Quil, your nose just turns me on...' _

He did a double take, probably trying to read my reddened expression to see if I was serious before he let out a little chuckle. I sank down into my seat farther. _I think this date'll go better if I just stop talking._

"My _nose_? You like, my _nose_?" He asked, curling his peach lips to help keep from letting a laugh break through. I simply nodded, trying to avoid his eyes and prevent any further extreme-blushing episodes.

"Well, thanks I guess. I always knew I had a good nose. I think I could model", he teased, turning to the side so I could see his profile, and he stuck out his nose as if to _model_ it.

I giggled, but ended up snorting a little. A habit that I thought I had gotten rid of in highschool. So much for that.

I covered my mouth quickly, before anymore snorts could surface and prayed to the dating gods that Quil might've missed the snorting. _Fat chance_, I thought, _he has superhuman hearing._ Just my luck.

"Did...did you just...?" He gasped, heaving in breaths of air in between fits of laughing. _Yep, pretty sure he heard. Nice job Porky the Pig._

"Yeah. I did. I thought I broke the habit in highschool...guess not. I'm sorry" I muttered, facing the passenger window so that I could have an excuse to not look at him. It didn't really work though since we were currently driving past a stretch of flat grassland._ Oh, yeah Quil, I'm trying to watch grass grow. That's why I can't face you. _Sure, he'll buy that...

"No, Claire. I think it's cute. I really like it. You should do it more often", he said in a genuine tone, which naturally caught my attention and made me look back to address his face. He looked completely serious; his brown eyes glittering from the rearlights of the car in front of us. _Did he honestly just tell me that snorting like a fat animal is attractive? Oh my god, I think he did._

_Maybe the dating gods were on my side..._

"Really? You don't think it's weird? It's so loud and annoying and it makes me sound like a nerd on steroids or a fat pig that's cranky..." I blabbered, trying to knock some sense into him. He couldn't truthfully enjoy a girl snorting. It was impossible.

"Listen to me, Claire. I love it. It's cute. You could never seem like a nerd or a pig. Don't even think that."

Then he reached his large, warm, callused palm over to mine and squeezed his hand around my, much smaller one. I could feel my breathing sputter erratically and I was sure he could hear it, too by the smug grin on his face.

He was warm, so warm, and I didn't even realize he was pulling into the parking lot of a resturant already. It was on the edge of the city, overlooking some pretty marshland. Candles were visible through the large glass windows that covered all the walls, making the resturant seem outdoors, even though it was inside. Perfect.

He gave me a light smile as we walked hand-in-hand to the French doors that lead inside. A short, stalky, older man greeted us at the door and Quil told him the reservation.

"Booth or table?" The man asked, his voice very raspy, hinting at a possible life of smoking.

Quil looked at me, an indifferent look on his face. He squeezed my hand, which I took as, _'You pick'_.

"Table", I decided, thinking that it might be easier to hold hands. Which I _loved_ doing...

We followed the waiter, weaving in and out of other people's romantic dinners until we reached a small table in the back, standing right in front of one of the huge windows. When you looked out of it, you could see the gorgeous dark blue color of the sky, and the twinkling stars that had just started to appear. The waiter handed us both menus.

"Here you are, let me know when you're ready to order", he told us, flashing a funny grin before bustling back to someone elses' table. I flipped through the paper menu a few times, trying to decide what to order.

Secretly, I was kind of planning on picking the cheapest meal in it because I hated the idea of Quil spending money on me, when I was well-equipped with a bank account of my own.

From what Emily's told me, he lives in a crappy old shack with another one of the wolf boys. I think she said Emdy or Embry or something along those lines. I would meet the mysterious roomate someday. If I was_ lucky_...maybe tonight.

I was snapped back into reality with the older waiter's raspy voice.

"What do you want, m'am?" The man looked at me expectantly, and I noticed Quil was peering at me with a confused expression on his face from over the menu.

"Uh- I'll take the..." I quickly snuck a peek down at the menu and saw my previously picked decision, the cheapest on the menu, "chicken bistro salad. No onions, please. And a glass of water."

The man quickly scribbled down my order and Quil shot me a suspicious look as he set down his menu. _I hope he doesn't say anything. Of course he will, he knows you picked the cheapest thing..._

"And you, sir?"

"I'll take the prime rib, t-bone steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, two butter biscuts, spaghetti and meatballs, and two orders of your special, the beef and vegtable soup. And...add a large coke to that, too", he finished, handing the menu back to the waiter, who's jaw was practically hitting the floor.

I couldn't blame the guy, either, 'cause that's where mine was, too. _How could any human being eat that much in one sitting? You've got to be kidding me..._

"Um...okay, I'll be back with your order..._soon_" the man said, ferociously scribbling down Quil's massive order on the notepad as he walked away. I waited 'till he was out of hearing.

"What in the _hell_, kind of order was _that_?" I whispered, making sure no one could hear my cursing.

"Well, I could ask you the same question, Miss Mason?" He sarcastically asked, whispering just as harshly as I was.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, fully aware that he caught on to my plan. _Well, it was nice while it lasted. All of two seconds._

"Cheapest thing on the menu, I'm not totally dumb. You know, Claire, I have money. I'm not poor. I can pay for a meal" he said, actually looking a little hurt in truth.

"No, Quil, I'm not saying that you're poor. I just...I have money, you don't need to pay for me." I slithered my hand out from my lap and gently moved it towards his on the table. When they touched, I could feel electricity pulse through my veins. He gripped my hand and a brief smile reached his lips.

"But I want to", he stated simply, and I didn't argue because I didn't want to be anything but happy. I didn't want to start some idiotic fight over who pays the bill.

The rest of dinner went smoothly. The food was great, Quil and I ended up sharing anyway, so the whole money thing kind of got shot out the window. We laughed and talked and laughed and talked and just had a good time. To any outsider we probably looked like the most loud, obnoxious and rowdy couple in the universe, but we didn't care; we were in our own world.

Even though the resturant was stuffed to the full capacity with people, it literally felt like it was just Quil and me. Me and Quil. Us. Alone. Together.

Our conversation topics varied from high school graduation to favorite country bands to peanut butter vs. nutella. I was all for nutella, which is clearly the better choice, but Quil seemed to have a different opinion.

By the time we finally exited the resturant, the clock console on Quil's truck read eleven. We had just spent four hours in the resturant, but it only felt like maybe an hour and a half to me.

I assumed we would be heading home, considering it was getting really late, pretty late for a _boyfriend_ and _girlfriend_ to be out. Did this mean...? Were we going to...?

I hoped so. I _really_ hoped so.

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><p>Enjoy? Let me know? Excited for the next chapter...hmmm?<p>

Oh, and before I forget, if you haven't already, check out my other story, Opposites Attract. It's a Seth/OC imprint story. I have a feeling some of you might like it.


	14. Hopeless Romantic

Author's Note:

I have been enjoying my summer, so far, at least. And...I just found out I got into the elite choral group that I auditioned for, you know, the one that had me so stressed out. Yep, that made me really happy. I am also taking Drivers Training right now, and am glad to tell you that parallel parking and corner backing are not as bad as they look, I didn't even hit the cones! Well, enough about my exciting summer, more about Quil and Claire.

Here's the new chapter, and I must warn you, it gets a little...how do I say this...a little _romantic_. I guess it could be considered by some as 'M', but I don't think it's too bad. I felt like it was important to the story and Quil and Claire's relationship since they are both adults. Not teens. So, count this as your warning, just so that I don't have anyone choking on their food or something. Lol. Okey-dokey, well, enjoy and let me know your thoughts on it. I love reviews.

Happy Reading!

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><p>I don't own Twilight, <em>yet<em>. I am however, planning a ninja-covert mission into Stephanie's mansion to steal it. Shh, don't tell.

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><p><em>Maybe it's true,<em>

_That I can't live without you,_

_Maybe two is better than one,_

_But there's so much time,_

_To figure out the rest of my life,_

_And you already got me coming undone,_

_And I'm thinking, _

_Two is better than one_

_Two is Better Than One, Taylor Swift and Boys Like Girls_

Ch.14 Hopeless Romantic

Quil didn't drive us home. Yes, I was sure of that much. I could barely tell where we were, because of the darkness and my unfamiliarity with the area, but I knew we weren't heading back to La Push. And when I questioned Quil on our whereabouts, he shot me this smug smile, but never answered.

"C'mon Quil, seriously, just tell me where we're going. It's not like I won't find out as soon as we get there..." I reasoned, trying to crack his stubborness. It really wasn't working. And I really wanted to know what he had up his sleeve.

"I'm sorry Claire, I can't do that. It's a surprise, and that's how it's staying."

I fought back the urge to childishly say, 'You suck'.

Instead, I settled for crossing my arms angrily and turning my head towards the passenger window, hoping that Quil would see me upset and cave. Imprinting did have some advantages...

"Claire, I'm not going to tell you, so you can pout all you want and it's not going to make a difference." _Dammit._

I huffed an annoyed breath of air, feeling defeated. He won.

So, the rest of the dark ride was quiet, and Quil seemed a pretty _on edge_. I noticed that his hands were a little shaky on the steering wheel, nothing drastic, just some slight movements. But it was enough for me to see. And he kept chewing on his lip. Quil never chewed on his lip.

I didn't say anything though, figuring it would be pointless to try to talk to Quil at this point. So, I stuck with keeping my mouth shut and focusing on trying to figure out where I was. I recognized trees, and that was about it. _Very specific._

Finally, I felt the vehicle slow, and I guessed that meant we had reached our destination. When Quil parked, on what I thought was the side of the highway, I was a little nervous. What the heck were we going to do here?

"You coming?" Quil asked, a small amused smile on his face as he waited for me with my door open. I realized I must haven't even made a move to get out, and he was already on my side with his arm out for help. I stuck my hand in his, and was a little shocked to feel how sweaty his palm was.

He led me into the trees on the side of the road, guiding me completely because I couldn't see a foot in front of me. Quil probably had some nightvision sort of deal because of his werewolf side.

I was so focused on staying on my feet rather than on the ground that I didn't even realize it when Quil stopped.

"Are we here?" I asked, not really entirely sure where _here_ was.

"I dunno, are we?" Quil teased, and even though I couldn't see him, I knew he had some sort of smug grin caked on his handsome face.

I hated when people answered questions with questions. It annoyed the hell out of me.

"Quit it, Quil, what the _hell_ is going on?" _No shitting me anymore._

"Close your eyes", he commanded, his voice suddenly huskier. I obeyed instantly, and suddenly, my inner thighs felt a little wet.

I felt his hands gently turn my body around by my shoulders.

"Open them", he said, his voice still husky and tantalizing.

I did as he said, again, and was rewarded with an amazing surprise. Out here, in the middle of some random forest, was this snow white gazebo, decorated with white shining lights that lit up the forest surrounding it. Some music was playing, a light piano melody, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from.

I could feel Quil's eyes on me as I looked over at the beatiful display of just how much this man loved me. I think he could tell I liked it a lot by the enormous grin I was pretty sure covered my face. Quil gently wrapped his arms around me, enclosing me in his incredibly warm embrace. I didn't even realize myself that I was cold until he warmed me up. But I was quickly finding out that lately Quil tended to know what I needed even before I knew it.

He finished warming me up and pulled me eagerly towards the gazebo, a bright smile grazing his face. We walked up the steps, hand in hand, and I decided that Quil was definitely a romantic. A hopeless romantic. There was no way he planned all this without owning a romantic bone somewhere in his massive body. It was perfect.

"May I have this dance, madam?" Quil asked, bowing and sticking out his hand, his voice morphing into a pathetic excuse for a British accent, but still very sweet at the same time. I giggled nervously, and took his hand, knowing that I was a nasty dancer. I danced similar to how I imagined an elephant in heels would dance. Yeah, that bad.

"Well, sir, you are the only one here. It doesn't look as if I have much of a choice now, does it?" I countered back, distorting my own voice into a British accent. Quil feigned hurt at my comment, so I slopped on a cheesy grin and took his hand.

"But, I would be happy to dance with you." He pulled me out into the center of the gazebo, directly under all the twinkling lights.

Quil apparently, danced just as crappy as me, because we both were constantly stepping on each other's feet. I took off my heels, seeing as how that might improve my lack of skills, even by the slightest. Quil didn't seem to mind our shitty dancing, though, he actually looked content, which was exactly how I felt.

I leaned my head in on his shoulder, feeling slightly sleepy but utterly happy with my life at the moment. He made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat.

"So, I take it you like all this?" Quil whispered, his voice lightly tickling the skin on my neck.

"Just a little bit", I hummed, shooting a teasing smile in his direction. He smiled back, knowing I meant that I loved it.

"So, can I get a little, I dunno, reward, maybe?" Quil asked, his smile condescending. I smiled back at him.

"What kind of reward would you prefer, hmm?" I asked, trying to squeeze it out of him.

"Well, a hug, a kiss, maybe a new car", Quil suggested jokingly, and I knew exactly which one of those Quil would prefer.

"Ooohhh, it looks like we are practically hugging right now, and I think I'm starting to grow on your car. Well, I guess that leaves us with kiss..." I rationalized, watching as Quil's smile grew wide with my teasing.

I leaned forward, and he covered the rest of the distance and our lips locked. I felt his tongue press lightly against my lips, politely asking for entry. I opened and his sweet breath filled my mouth. Our tongues teased each other, our tongues battling for dominance.

Suddenly, Quil's huge, muscular hands, wrapped themselves around my barely covered thighs, and he lifted me onto his hips, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his torso. Our kiss was becoming more and more intense by the minute, and I started slipping down his body gradually. I gasped when I felt his hardness against me, but before I could think about it, he lifted me back up his body.

After a good amount of kissing, I was out of breath, so we broke apart. Quil's brown eyes were very dark, almost black, looking back at me with a small smile playing on his thick lips.

"I want you, Quil", I whispered, my breathing heavy and uneven. I lifted my eyes to see his face, and it was a little confused. "I want you", I repeated, hoping he would understand.

And I was pretty sure he did. His eyes darkened even more.

"Are you positive?" He asked, a cautious expression taking over his demeanor.

"One hundred and ten percent." He smiled wide.

"How long?" He wondered, and I wasn't sure what exactly he meant by that.

"What?"

"How long have you wanted me?" He asked patiently, his callused hands rubbing light patterns on my hips. Oh, he meant that.

"Ever since I came back to La Push", I admitted, a little embarassed that I had wanted to sleep with Quil like two days after I met him. Well, re-met him technically.

He seemed to like my answer though, and he brushed his hand across my cheek, where I'm sure blush had took over.

He placed a feather light kiss on my cheek there.

"I want you, too, Claire", he whispered, his voice rough and really sexy. The wetness inbetween my legs made an appearance again.

Oh god, Quil's nostrils flared slightly, and his eyes darkened even more, just when I thought they were as dark as they could get. He could smell me. He could smell exactly just how much I wanted him. Oh, lord.

"You...you can smell me?" I asked, the blush blaring across my face.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I love it." Quil whispered, his hands moving farther down, just brushing the curve of my ass.

I nodded, trying to mute the redness on my face.

"Do you want to get out of here, Claire?" Quil asked, his husky voice sending shivers down my spine. I knew what that question really translated to. I mentally thanked Kim and Emily for their help.

I nodded, and Quil hitched me back up his body and I wrapped my legs around his torso again. He grabbed my heels off the floor and handed them to me. Once we got to Quil's truck, we were practically dry-humping each other. I could hardly breathe, Quil's mouth was everywhere, and I was pretty sure my warm wetness was dripping down to the forest floor.

Quil had laid blankets across the bed of the pick-up truck, and he gently set me down on them and jumped in next to me, his mouth never leaving my body in the process.

Before I knew it, Quil was in his plaid boxers, that made my mouth water, and I was down to my lacy, lilac, Victoria's Secret bra and panty set. Quil kept flaring his nostrils, and I suddenly, my soaking wet panties were flying over the edge of the truck. My bra soon followed. And thanks to my fast-working fingers, Quil's boxers joined them.

It was all such a blur, so fast, and so heated. The feel of skin to skin contact was amazing, and I couldn't think of any feeling that was better than this. Quil's occasional husky grunts suggested that he thought the same.

Pretty soon, I needed Quil inside me. I couldn't wait any longer, and Quil's mouth was teasing me all over the place.

"Quil, I need you", I rushed out, my breath being sucked out of me by Quil's sweaty, muscular body against me.

"Are you sure about this?" Quil mumbled against my neck, unfairly distracting me. Yes, I wanted it so bad.

"Hell yes." I could feel Quil smile against my skin.

Finally, his face was back up, facing me, and his black eyes were shining brightly. He kissed me on the lips as he positioned himself, and I practically writhed as I felt his length against my heated core. He grinded against me a few times, provoking a few whines from me, that were not supposed to be vocalized.

He raised his eyebrows a bit, making sure for a third time that I was ready. He was so sweet, waiting this long for me, and still being able to make sure I was all for it. Which I was. So I nodded, my last confirmation.

Then, ever-so-gently, he plunged into me, and the pain wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I hadn't been with Dylan for about four months, and Quil was a lot bigger, so I knew it would hurt.

But this, this felt great. Perfect. He kissed me the whole time, his eyes looking directly into my face the entire time, making sure I was fine.

Then, after I seemed to adjust to his size, he started moving in and out, and that felt even better. I felt the coils inside me slowly tighten and finally, after awhile, burst. Quil released after awhile, too, and we both fell backs down, against the truck bed blankets, staring up at the night stars. I cuddled into Quil's warm side, feeling completely content. This was the way my life was supposed to be.

Nothing else mattered, but this man and me. Together.

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><p>So...what'd you think? Quil and Claire's relationship is progressing nicely, huh? It makes me feel happy inside. What is your guys' opinions? Weiver please. :)<p>


	15. What Is It?

Authors Note:

Okay, I kind of, sort of, am wondering if anyone is even reading this anymore? I didn't get any reviews last chapter, not sure why, maybe I scared you away... Anyways, I hope at least someone is still reading this, so here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy, and please, let me know you're all alive, and review! Please and thanks.

Happy Reading!

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><p>Name's not Stephanie Meyer, as much as I like to think it is sometimes.<p>

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><p><em>Every road that I've been down,<em>

_The only truth that I have found,_

_There's only one thing I can't live without, _

_You_

_-You, Rascal Flatts_

Ch. 15 What is _It_?

Quil and I were together constantly now. Our sexual encounter seemed to heighten the need to be around each other. If I had thought we were tighter than tight before, now we were like spandex. If he wasn't patrolling, he was at my side.

I could tell it was definitely grating down on Sam and Emily's nerves, especially because their house was so small, with all their kids, and Quil and I were always hanging around and taking up space. I thought it was about time we got a house together, since Quil and I were practically living together already, but I didn't want to assume Quil wanted a house with me either. And I knew he would protest if I tried to pay for one all by myself, even though my bank account was pretty fluffy.

I didn't really know why we never went to Quil's place, either, but I guess I never asked him. I didn't know if it was because he was embarassed or that he just didn't want me in his stuff.

Of course, Emily's house got a little boring and old sometimes, so Quil always had things for us to do together. One day, he took me hiking in the woods, which apparently I was forbidden from doing unless I was with Quil. I snorted at that, but the serious look Quil gave me shut me up quickly and I realized he was completely serious.

Another morning, Quil took me out for breakfast down at main street diner. It was a small, vintage old place with all the fifties decorations still in tact. Red leather bar stools and booths, black and white checkerboard flooring, jukebox in place, heck even the menu was taken straight from that decade. I loved it though, Quil probably knew I would. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I remembered coming there as a kid with him. I could almost swear that it used to be my favorite resturant. I wouldn't doubt that Quil remembered that fact either. He seemed to know me from the inside out.

And earlier this week, Quil took me down to First Beach again. He had brought a blanket, which we laid across the array of rainbow tinted rocks and sat upon. We didn't go right up next to the shore, since it was a particularly windy day and the almost black waves were violently crashing, thrashing about water in every direction. We stayed far enough away that you still got the cool breeze off the water, but didn't get thoroughly soaked. That was my favorite 'field trip' so far with Quil, because all we did was talk.

"Do you miss Boston?" He had asked, his eyes drifting out to watch the indigo waves activity. I could tell this was a subject that seemed to be bothering Quil. He only avoided my eyes when something was uncomfortable for him to talk about.

I thought about my answer carefully anyways though.

"Yes. Very much so. I loved Boston, I liked the history of it, the cobblestone streets and all the culture. I miss the city life, how alive it was at all hours of the day. I miss my friends, my co-workers, my job", I paused, assessing the sadness that had overwhelmed Quil's face then, "Quil, I do really miss it. But as much as I loved it there, and as much as I miss it, I want to be here even more. This is my home now. This is where I'm supposed to be. I can't deny it. The spirits put me here for a reason, _you_. And I do not question it._ Ever_. I may miss Boston, but not as much as I would miss La Push if I it left again."

He looked at me then, a small smile tracing his lips, and he leaned in and pressed a gentle peck on my lips. I loved the ways his lips felt on mine. Warm, soft, and they gave me this overtaking sense of love. He truly was my soul mate. No one else could ever make me feel like that.

"I wish I could give you more. You deserve to have everything, the way you've always wanted. You don't deserve to settle. I can't give you half the stuff you deserve, Claire", he mumbled, his smile dissipating once again. I leaned over and placed my much smaller hand on top of his large, callused one.

"Quil, I don't need expensive cars, penthouse suites, and thousand-dollar wine to be happy. I was blind before, I thought that was what mattered. I thought that money should be someone's number one priority, but now I realize that isn't the case whatsoever. Quil, all I ever needed to be happy was you. All anyone ever needs is someone that loves them, unconditionally, bad times, and good. You already give me everything I deserve, and more", I said, rubbing soothing circles into his hand to try to get him to relax.

"I love you so much, Claire", he spoke, turning to me with that look, the look of complete admiration and love. I melted, right there, like I always did whenever he looked at me like that.

Over the last few months, I had learned everyone around here's different theories on imprinting. Sam thought imprinting was a way to breed stronger wolves, connecting two people with strong wolf gene-packed bloodlines. He believed that the wolf was led to a female that had the best chance of producing a stronger, more potent wolf. Something along the lines of 'Survival of the Fittest'.

Emily told me that she believed imprinting was directly linked to the imprintee. She figured that the wolf would imprint on the girl whenever the girl needed the most support in her life. She said Quil imprinted on me when I was two, which was also the year that my parent's house got forclosed on and they were struggling to stay afloat. She said that Quil came into my life to be there for me when my parents were busy trying to get on their feet, to give me the attention I wasn't receiving. She believed a wolf came into his imprint's life when she needed him the most.

Kim believed that imprinting was connected to the Quileute gods. She thought all Quileute's were made to have an imprint, another half, but only the wolves had the power to immediately recognize it, in the process of imprinting. It was just a quality all their own, some quirk. She thought that every single Quileute was destined for another Quileute by the gods, but they didn't get the automatic knowledge that imprinting provided. She believed imprinting just sped up what was bound to happen anyways.

Paul's theory was that imprinting was a gift from the gods to the wolves. A sort of reward for all the sacfrifices that came along with being a protector. He believed that the simple joy that an imprint brings to her wolf is the way the gods thank the wolves for being protectors.

But no matter who I went to, imprint or imprinter, no one ever denied that the connection between one another wasn't for the better. No one flat-out ever said, "Imprinting ruined my life". Although, I did hear some interesting stories about attempting to deny imprinting, yet every single imprinting ended in a couple.

I even got to meet Renesmee Cullen, Jacob Black's imprint, the other day. She and I were apparently close buddies when we were toddlers. "Thick as thieves" were Jacob's exact words. I found out that she in fact was a vampire, only half though, and I even got a little scared for a second, but Quil reassured me that she was '_vegatarian_', meaning she only drank animal's blood. Jake said she wouldn't ever even think of hurting a human, so I had nothing to worry about.

She was very pretty, almost angelically. Her skin shimmmered, her long auburn hair was wavy and silky looking, and her face was perfect. She appeared to be right out of a magazine, no imperfections in sight. I got to talk with her for awhile, listening to her stories about traveling the world with Jacob. She and Jacob had been married for a little over ten years now, I guess. She explained that although technically she was a year younger than me, her body aged a lot faster, so she reached her full maturity when she was about seven. And her and Jacob, despite her vampire father's protests, became a couple shortly after that.

I was very curious about her, especially about how she was an imprint since she didn't have any Quileute blood in her. It was odd, the first imprint without that key trait. I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to pry and come across as impolite either.

Finally, as my conversation with Nessie ended, and Jacob and Quil's drew to a close, I whispered in Quil's ear about my inquiry, seeing what his opinion was on it. He kind of shot me this eyebrow-raised glance and turned to a curious looking Jacob.

"She was wondering as to why Nessie's your imprint if she's not a Quileute descendant", Quil explained, laughing a little at my silliness. I suddenly felt a little embarassed, but I hadn't known that they would be so comfortable with that question.

"Well, I guess everyone has their own theories, but I think she's my imprint because she's all I could ever hope for in a woman. I love every little detail about her, and that's all I need. That's all I think imprinting is. Love, just bluntly put out there so you get the message loud and clear, and there's no confusion. I think Sam and everyone else just reads too much into it. It's just love, and she's everything all I'll ever need", Jacob explained, but his eyes were on Nessie the entire time he spoke. She was blushing slightly, a rosy pink color hinting on her cheeks as she gazed up at him from behind her thick, black eyelashes.

And I realized that I agreed with Jacob. I believed his theory was right on target. Imprinting wasn't about breeding super-wolves, helping lost girls, Quileute god's planned destinies, or gifting wolves for their service. No, it was purely an connection entirely created by love.

I turned to Quil, only to find his eyes locked on mine, his face full of happiness. I think he agreed with Jacob's theory, too.

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><p>Review please! :) Oh, and I haven't said this for a few chapters, but thanks so much! I have some truly amazing reviewers out there! You guys know who you are! *Points finger*<p> 


	16. Darkness

Author's Note:

Yes, I know, I am updating, again! Gosh, I love when I actually update early, it so very rarely happens. Well, I hope all of you have had a magnificent week. I will definitely update soon, and after this chapter, you'll probably understand why... so read on, and make sure you review to let me know what you think'll happen, or what you maybe want to happen.

As always, Happy Reading!

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><p>I really hate to say it, but I don't own Twilight. I know, I know, the truth hurts.<p>

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><p><em>I won't breathe until you just tell me everything's alright,<em>

_I am not scared of losing this,_

_I'm afraid of losing you,_

_I'm sorry that this will not end,_

_But I can't find the strength to speak_

_-I'm Afraid Of Losing You, A Rocket To The Moon_

Ch. 16 Darkness

"Babe, sweetie, wake up, please", Quil's soft, pleading whispers and his gentle nudges woke me up. I was generally a really light sleeper, but ever since Quil and I started sharing a bed, I sleep like a log. Quil has informed me that I also roll like one, too.

I grunted, halfway asleep, but forced my legs to move. Quil lifted me slightly, under my armpits, until I was standing on the ground next to our bed. Technically, it was Emily and Sam's guest bed, but we slept in it together almost every night now, so in retrospect, it was 'ours'.

I wiped some sleep from my eyes, and glanced at the lighted clock on the bedside table. Four-flipping-A.M.! What in the hell is going on for Quil to get me up this early? I could be sleeping in that bed right now, dreaming my always happy and pleasant Quil-dreams, but no, he wakes me up at four A.M. for who know's what!

"Quil! What's going on? It's four A.M.!" I whispered harshly, not wanting to waken the rest of the sleeping household. _I love this guy, I really stinking do, but sometimes I think he's insane._

"I know what time it is. And I can explain, but, we have to go, like _now_", Quil whispered back hurriedly, his voice very anxious and shaky. Now that I noticed it, his body was sort of trembling, too. _That's wierd..._

"Quil, what is going on? You're shaking, and you're talking really fast..." I wondered, my own nerves spiking after knowing he was in this sort of state. Something serious was going on, I could tell. Goosebumps rose on my arms and legs.

"Just, get dressed Claire and I'll explain later. Just do what I say for the next ten to fifteen minutes, please. Okay?" Quil's voice was really edgy now, and though I couldn't see his face in the darkness, I could clearly picture what it would look like from the sound of his voice. His thick eyebrows would be bunched together, that little worried crease that I loved so much would be poking out. His eyes would be dancing with anxiousness, worry underlying in their chocolate depths. His jaw would be clenched, a habit I noticed he had presented whenever something got him upset.

I nodded my head, but then realizing he probably wouldn't be able to see it, I added a small, "Uh-huh". He sighed a breath of relief and finally let go of me so I could get dressed. I didn't really ask why he didn't turn on any lights, I figured he would have if there wasn't a problem with it, so I refrained from questioning it. I felt around my dresser for a basic shirt and a pair of jeans. They might not match, but at least they were clothing. And I had a feeling that whatever Quil was so riled up about, clothing choices wouldn't be a major concern.

"I'm ready", I mumbled after pulling on some flip-flops. Quil simply made a small grunting noise and lifted me off the ground, bridal-style, rushing out of the room like a man on a mission.

The house was dark, not a surprise considering the hour, but it was oddly quiet. I mean, not that it would normally be incredibly loud at four in the morning, but usually there was the little noises. Like the hushed breathing from the kid's bedrooms. Or the slight drippy-droppy noises coming from the creaky sink in the kitchen. Or the barely noticeable hum from the wind outside hitting the windows. But tonight, it was dead silent.

I wanted to ask Quil so many questions. I desperately wanted to know what the hell was going on. Where he was taking me. Why he was acting so strangely. What was the problem. Why it was so quiet. But I couldn't. I had promised him that I would just do what he said for the next ten to fifteen minutes.

He bursted out of that house, knocking the creaky door on it's hinges, and I shivered as the cool night air touched my bare skin. It was La Push, so no matter the season, it always tended to be a little chilly, especially at night. Quil tightened his grip on me, maybe because of the shivers, maybe for unknown reasons. I didn't ask.

Quil's rusty old truck was parked on the gravel driveway, and he quickly placed me in the passenger's side before running like a maniac to the drivers. Looking out the window, I couldn't make out any outlines of Sam and Emily's vehicles. They must be gone, too. _What in the lord's name was going on? _Again, I held my tongue.

Quil pulled out of there faster than a bat out of hell and I could feel it straight through my bones. It hit me like a brick wall, and I couldn't even fathom how stupid I had been. Quil was this huge, buff, werewolf, that could almost defeat anything that could come his way, with one exception. And I happened to know what that one exception was.

_Vampires._

It fit perfectly, with every single thing that was going on. Why Quil had been so urgent and anxious about everything. Why the house was empty, and why Sam and Emily were nowhere to be seen. Why Quil was squeezing my hand with so much force that I thought it might just break.

I didn't want to say a word, I had promised Quil, but I couldn't hold it in any longer. Not when I knew the truth.

"Vampire?" I simply questioned softly, my voice barely loud enough to hear myself. But the way Quil's head snapped up, I knew he heard me.

"Yeah...Collin caught the scent around midnight, followed the trail, and it led straight into town. We would have gotten to killing them sooner, but we only have one wolf on night duty's now, since so many are imprinted and want to go home to their families. Collin couldn't handle all of them by himself", Quil explained, steering down the winding La Push back roads like an expert. He didn't even have the headlights on.

"_Them_?" I questioned. I noticed the plural he used. That meant multiple...vampires.

"You're pretty observant, aren't you?" He joked, but I noticed there was absolutely no humor in his voice. "There's four. We talked to the Cullen's already, the vegitarian ones in Forks, and these bloodsuckers are not their friends. These ones are dangerous, Carlisle said he knew them from back when he lived in Europe. Apparently, they ki - they're just bad news, Claire. Real bad news. And they have already threatened us", Quil finished, his voice cold and hard. I could hear the hatred he had for these beings seeping through his voice.

"What do you mean _'threatened you'_?" I asked, hoping I wasn't distracting Quil too much from driving wherever we were going. I didn't want to bother him when he needed to focus.

"Well, one of them, the male leader of the coven, told Carlisle why they were heading here when the Cullen's were out hunting last night. The leech told him that we killed his mate, awhile back. We probably did, there's been so many vamp's passing through over the years that have fed on people around here. We had to kill them. But now, now he's back for revenge. Carlisle said he planned on getting ahold of one of the imprints, taking a mate for a mate", Quil said, his voice quiet, but I could hear in his voice that he was talking through clenched teeth.

I gulped. I was an imprint. I was exactly what that vampire wanted.

As if Quil could sense my thoughts, "Don't worry. He won't get near you. He'll be going through me, and all the other wolves."

I stayed silent for the rest of the crazy ride, thoughts crowding my brain at an alarming rate. I couldn't process any of it, either. Quil didn't say anything more, just drove with the gas pedal pressed to the floor, his werewolf sight guiding us through the black night's darkness.

Just when I thought the ride would never end, the car came to a rest. I couldn't see anything, so I definitely had no idea where we were. Quil carefully grabbed my body, lifting it over the center console and out of the driver's side, so that I never left his arms, and headed towards a building, I suspected, but I could only see the slight outline of it, so I couldn't be sure. Quil knocked his fist in a abnormal pattern on a door. Rum-bump-dat-do-dum. The pattern somehow made it's way into my memory, the echo running rampant in my mind.

The door was opened, and inside was again, complete darkness. I was getting used to all the darkness by now.

"Glad you made it, come on in", someone whispered, a low baritone voice that I couldn't recognize.

"Thanks, Jake, is everyone here?" Quil's voice sort of surprised me, his chest slightly moving with his words. I realized I was clinging to him, like I would be for dear life, but Quil didn't seem to mind. I was glad he didn't, because I needed him right now. Needed to feel his body touching mine.

"Almost. Not yet. Embry and Bethany are still missing. Last time I talked to him, he was heading home to get her and the kids. He mentioned something about Emersyn and Max being heavy sleepers." Jake sounded so calm, I could see how he would be a good Alpha once Sam quit. I had overheard Sam and Emily talking a lot about that lately, and I wouldn't be surprised if he quit soon.

"Good, good. Well, I'm gonna get Claire in here. Where are the rest of the guys?" Quil started walking me slowly into the darkness and set me down on something soft. It felt like a sofa. A warm arm touched my elbow, so I knew someone else was here, too.

"They're all out looking for the leeches. Brady and I are here, guarding the imprints, and I just sent Collin out to make sure Embry gets here. You can head out and do a perimeter run, see what the guy's are up to, and help them if they need it."

"Okay", Quil agreed, and I felt his huge hands wrap around mine. "I'm gonna go, okay baby? I'll be back before you know it. Jake and Brady here will protect you. Just trust me, okay? Can you do that, for me?" Quil sounded so sad, and if I didn't know better, I'd bet money that he was crying right now.

I was scared. I was scared out of my mind, and I didn't want Quil to leave me. I didn't want to sit here by myself and wonder what could possibly be going on outside in that forest. I didn't want to let Quil go fight those bloodsucking monsters.

But I wouldn't say that. I would be strong. For Quil.

"Yes", I whispered back, trying to keep the burning sensation from my throat. I couldn't cry right now, I needed to be strong for Quil.

"I love you, so much", Quil mumbled, kissing my forehead. I could feel the desperation in the kiss, in how he held his lips to my forehead for a few seconds after the kiss, like he was memorizing me.

"I love you, too", I mumbled back, feeling the warmness disappear as his lips left my forehead and his hands left my hands. I saw the dim figure of his form leave through the door, the door shutting right after him, leaving me unsure if he'd ever come back.

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><p>Oooooh, drama! Finally, some action inbetween all this fluffy stuff. Review, pweez, so I have more motivation to update sooner! :)<p> 


	17. When You're Gone

Author's Note:

Here's the latest update, I know already! It's probably not going to last long, so enjoy it! I hope you like this chapter, even though not a lot goes on. It's more of a filler, just to build the anticipation. You understand. Well, enjoy! There's a Quil's excerpt in this chapter, since Claire obviously doesn't know what's going on outside. Hope you keep reviewing, they have been amazing and I swear I think I have some of the best reviewers on this site!

Happy Reading!

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><p>I don't own Twilight, Stephaine does, and it's such a shame because I <em>so<em> wouldn't have ended with Breaking Dawn.

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><p><em>When you're gone,<em>

_The pieces of my heart are still missing you,_

_And when you're gone,_

_The face I came to known is missing, too_

_-When You're Gone, Avril Lavigne_

Ch. 17 When You're Gone

Darkness was a tricky thing. It played with your mind, made you paranoid and on edge. It heightened your other senses, hearing and touch. It was a known fact that darkness was a common fear of many people, and I was no exception.

At first, after Quil left, it was quiet. I heard Jacob and who I assumed was Brady, whispering things to each other, but I couldn't make out any of the specific words. Whoever was sitting next to me on the sofa wasn't talking. So I sat there in complete silence for a time that seemed close to forever. In reality, it might have been only five minutes, but to me the time dragged on and on. I tapped my foot. I cracked my knuckles. I knawed on my fingernails.

"How're you holding up?" Oh, thank god. A voice I actually recognized, too. Emily.

"Not too good. Does _this_ happen a lot?_ Vampires_?" I asked, trying to create some sort of conversation because of how much my nerves were bugging me.

"Every so often. We haven't actually had one of these really serious ones since before you left, though", she admitted, and I felt her soft, slender fingers firmly grip my hand, almost in a comforting sort of way. It was nice.

Great. Not since I before I left. _That's reassuring._

I decided to change the subject, since I didn't really need any more reasons to be panicking at this point. "Where's the kids?"

I have literally, like, never come across a kid-less Emily. It was certainly a rare sight.

"Right here. Junior and Ella are over in the corner, playing cards with some of the other pack kids. Brandon and Annie are asleep on the sleeping bag on the floor right in front of me."

There must be a lot more people in this room then I had thought. All the pack's imprints, and their kids, and probably some family members if I figured correctly. They were thinking strategetically, though. Isolating us to one spot, instead of keeping us all over the reservation. It made sense, and better protected us.

"When did you get here?" I wondered, seeing as how I must have slept straight through their leaving. Actually, it didn't really make sense as to why I didn't go with them.

"We got here about fifteen minutes before Quil brought you. We were originally gonna bring you with us, but Quil was with you, and he told Sam he wanted to be alone with you first", she finished, but her tone softened at the very end. I could guess why, too.

Quil had wanted to take me himself because he wanted a chance to say goodbye. In case he didn't make it back alive. I shuddered.

"You should get some rest, it's gonna be awhile before everything's over. There's no use to staying up and worrying. I'll make sure to wake you up when they get back if you're not up already."

I knew I should sleep. I was tired as hell. My eyes were burning, aching for some rest. But how could I be expected to sleep with what was going on? I don't think it would even be possible to shut my eyes right now.

I could lose Quil. I just got him, we just got together, and now, he could be gone forever. My chest began to throb, and my throat was suddenly empty. I started dry-heaving, trying to get air to my stinging lungs.

"Breathe, Claire, god, don't freak out like this! They'll be fine, they always are, remember, they're built to do this", Emily cooed, stroking my back and brushing her hand lightly across my forehead.

"I'm sorry. I just - ", I tried to explain, but words failed me, nothing seemed to explain what I was feeling correctly.

"It hurts. I know. You're worried. I know. You're scared. I know. But Claire, there's nothing you can do right now to help. All we can do is stay here, and trust that they'll get home safe."

This was horrible, absolute torture.

"Don't worry, Claire, everyone gets nervous It's natural. But it's just like Emily said, we have to trust them to come home to us in one piece", Kim, I think, said, her voice clearly trying to be cheery. I didn't have to be a genius to hear the obvious worry lingering in it, though.

Suddenly, I didn't feel so alone. All these women, they all were scared, and worried sick, and they all had a lot to lose. Most had even more to lose than me, they had children, too. I had to be strong, for Quil. I promised.

A knock came from the door. It sort of frightened me at first, but I settled down when I noticed it was the same secretive knock that Quil had used. Someone answered it, and Embry stood in the doorway with who I assumed was his imprint, who had a little boy at her feet, and a little girl resting on her hip. They must be Embry's kids.

Jake let them in, whispering a little to Embry. Embry then turned, gave his imprint a soft kiss on the lips, and then pecked both his kid's foreheads and whispered some words. Probably reassurances, I guessed.

In a weird way, I felt like we were sending soliders to war. Like we were saying our goodbyes, in case of their deaths, and we sent them on their way. They were defending the reservation, their people, like soliders defended our country, Americans. I wondered what I looked like right now. Did I look like the women on the movies when their husbands left to fight?

And all these kids, all these kids that could grow up without a father. They might not get to go to the father-daughter dance, or have their dad in the grand-stands rooting for them as they make the touchdown pass. It was sad, it almost made me guilty to be so selfish about Quil. Every single person in here had someone to lose, someone that meant the world to them.

I hoped to god that these men got home safe. Their families were here, waiting for them.

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><p><strong><span>Quil's POV<span>**

It hurt to leave her behind. It wasn't fair, I had just gotten her back, we were happy, and these god damn bloodsuckers pick now to show up and screw everything over. I didn't want to leave her there alone, I was supposed to be there to protect her, to personally see to it that nothing ever makes her upset or worried. But the way her heart was thumping, like it might pump right out of her chest, told me she was already scared. I had to admit, I was, too.

These leeches, they were bad news. I mean, all leeches are bad news, but this particular coven, they knew their shit. Carlisle said they had to have watched us for awhile, to know we had imprints, and researched our culture. They figured out the best time to attack, when we only had one wolf on patrol. They had to have planned this for a good amount of time.

"Quil, Seth, Ian and Danny, you take an inner perimeter. Jared, Leah, Tyler, Nick and Eli, you the outer perimeter. Paul, Joey, Troy, Embry, and I will take right in town. Remember what we're dealing with here. We know there's the male leader, a female, and another male. Be ready for anything, these leeches have proven themselves to be smart", Sam's Alpha voice talked sternly through the mind connection. It was really hard to focus, everyone's thoughts were all over the place. On their families, their imprints, their lives. What they would be leaving behind if they didn't make it back.

I started the inner perimeter, taking the lead since I was the oldest in the group. Seth on my left flank, Ian and Danny on my right. Tonight was darker, there was no moon lighting the star-less sky. Seth was thinking about Dakota, his imprint, and how much he loved her freckles. He was going through all the ones he memorized on her face, picturing them in detail. Ian was thinking about his parents, since he hadn't imprinted yet, and his little brother. He was picturing his mother, what her face must have looked like earlier tonight. She was crying, sobbing uncontrollably. Danny was thinking about college, his thoughts more along the lines of what he hadn't gotten to do yet. He was also imprintless, but his thoughts were nearly as depressing.

I knew I needed to get home, no matter what.

That's when I smelt it. The sickly sweet scent that could only mean one thing.

_Vampire._

The other guys immediately caught it, too, their noses snapping up to sniff the smell.

"Everyone else stay where you are, in case they're trying to create a diversion to sneak through, Embry and I will back up Quil's group, the rest of you keep watching", Sam ordered over the connection once again.

My group started to follow the strong trail, leading us to a clearing, one much like the one from the _'Nessie Confrontation'_ many years ago.

Sam and Embry were soon with us, their noses following the same stink we had caught a whiff of. The trail soon ended directly in the center of the empty clearing, with no vampire in sight.

Suddenly, a petite figure loomed out of the darkness of the trees. Her skin a pasty white, her hair flowy and blonde, her eyes red as blood. She smiled, a grin only found in horror movies.

"I see you have found us. You know what we want, and if you give it to us, we'll leave." She offered, her voice high, like chimes, ringing back and forth in my eardrums. Sam's low growls filled the air as he inched closer to the bloodsucker.

"They won't give up their precious _imprints_ without a fight, Gretchen, you should know that. After all, we _have_ been spying on them for the last few weeks. We know how they can't live without their mates." A dark-haired male stepped forward, ten feet away from the female, and we knew this was the leader. He wore a confident smirk.

"But, they don't have to give one up, if we already have one. _Right_, Winston?" A second male stepped forward, right next to the female, her mate most likely, with light brown hair. He looked smug, just like the other two.

Sam was only about twenty feet away from them now, his paws slowly inching closer every moment while the hackles on his back rose.

_Who's imprint did they have? Claire? Oh, mother of god, please god, no! NO! NO! Not her! I can't - It can't be - NO!_

But, how could I say that, it would basically kill any wolf to lose their imprint. Everyone's thoughts were pretty much the same as mine, though.

_Don't let it be mine._

"Who could it be? Who _could_ it be?" The leader jokingly questioned, his tone teasing and irritating.

Sam lashed out, biting for his head. But he ducked just in time, and got his cold, rock arms around Sam's shoulders, squeezing. We all lunged forward, attacking, and the battle began.

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><p>Cliffhanger! Review...and I might just have motivation to update sooner! :)<p> 


	18. Seeing You Like This

Author's Note:

Oh. My. Gosh. Thanks for all the amazing reviews, I loved them! And now you have all created an unhealthy addiction, which means I need even more reviews to keep this drugless high I'm on. JK. ;)

I'm back again with another update, thankfully. Sadly though, I am leaving for a trip to Washington D.C. at like, four in the morning on Saturday, and I won't be back until the following Saturday, so I won't be updating again until then. I know, I know, I'm sad about it, too :( The story is just getting so good...but I am very excited for the trip because I will be watching the Fourth of July fireworks over the Lincoln Memorial! Can you say YE-AH! Well, enough about my super-awesome trip that I will make sure to tell you about when I get back, and more Quil and Claire goodiness. Enjoy!

Happy Reading!

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><p>Wherefore art thou Stephanie Meyer?<p>

Not here I tell you, and this is not her story, nor do I own the immaculate storyline that is Twilight.

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><p><em>I wanted you to know,<em>

_ I love the way you laugh,_

_I wanna hold you high,_

_ and steal your pain away_

_-Broken, Amy Lee and Seether_

Ch. 18 Seeing You Like This

"Claire, sweetie, they're back", Emily's soft voice whispered in my ear, lifting me from my light slumber. I tried to remember what exactly was going on, why Emily was with me, replaying the last day or so in my mind. _QUIL!_

"_Where_? Where is he? I _need_ him!" I practically screamed, trying to stand up and get off of whatever I was laying down on. Firm, callused, warm hands held me down in place, keeping me from getting up. My heart jumped at the possibility of those being Quil's hands, but I was instantly broke of my hope when the owner of the firm grip spoke.

"Claire, I need you to calm down." _Sam._ "Quil has been...injured...and he needs time to rest and heal. He's asleep at the moment, but we'll allow you to see him if you promise to be quiet and not wake him", he reasoned, almost like an adult offering a child a reward for doing their homework, or getting good grades. Making a deal.

I didn't have to think twice at that propostion, though, so I nodded my head anxiously up and down. Anything to see Quil, even if I might not be able to see his warm smile or hear his velvet-smooth voice. A strong pull tugged rigorously at my heart, feeling similar to how a knife would feel if someone twisted and turned it mercilessly back and forth in my chest.

My Quil was hurt, injured because of his bravery, his courage, and I would do everything in my power to help him recover at the fastest rate possible.

"Please?" I quickly added onto my obnoxiously overly-done nodding, my tone coming out whinier than intended, but both Sam and Emily didn't seem very taken aback by it.

Sam glanced momentarily at Emily, a look of question controlling his demeanor, before Emily nodded swiftly, her brown eyes fixed upon my face with small frown. Sam faced me once again, his expression now indifferent and unreadable. I felt his hands still firmly pressing my shoulders down, and I realized I was still struggling and wriggling under his grip, trying to get up off of what I gathered was Sam and Emily's living room sofa. I didn't really wonder how I had gotten here, my mind was far too distracted to dwell on such a small detail. We were talking about Quil's well-being here, and my sole focus was devoted to that.

"Claire, you have to understand, he's...not in the best shape right now. He really wants to see you, you were all he was thinking about, even when he was being wounded, but he needs his rest right now. His body is healing slower than usual, because of the extent to his injury, and rest is key to his recovery. You can be in there, with him, that's fine, but you need to understand that you must allow him some time to heal." Sam's face was a mask of seriousness, his deep-set, near black eyes staring into my face with purpose. His jaw was set, and the unmistakable 'Alpha' tone in his voice was evident, even to me. He was acting protective over Quil, as if I was a threat to Quil's safety. It stung, but I shrugged it off quickly, realizing Quil was a part of his pack. He might not have been Sam's beta, or his gamma, even, but Quil was still a part of his pack, and therefore, his brother. He was hurting, too, with Quil being hurt.

The way he was talking about Quil getting hurt, the faster my heart had pounded. Questions sputtered hurriedly through my head, demanding my attention all at once, fogging my brain with utter confusion. _What happened to him? Which leech did this? Who's taking care of him? How long will it take for him to recover? Where is he? Can I hold his hand? Can I brush my lips across his? Can I squeeze him into a tight hug, reassuring myself that he's really there and this isn't all some messed up, twisted sort of dream that I am gonna wake up from and find out he's actually dead?_

"I understand, Sam", I managed to say, trying my best to ignore and block all the cluttered incoherent thoughts muddling around my brain at a rapid pace.

Sam's stone-cold expression immediately disappeared from his features, and he gave me small smile. He released his tight hold on my upper arms and got off the couch. I stood up as well, noticing my clothing had been changed from what I had gone to sleep wearing. But again, I didn't allow my mind to ponder it, as there were more important things to attend to right now. Like seeing Quil.

"Follow me", Sam instructed, and I did as he asked and followed his huge form down Sam and Emily's hallway. He headed directly to the guest room, or as it had become in the past weeks, 'my bedroom'. He turned his head back to me, gave me one more, as I can only describe, 'warning' type of look before quietly turning the doorknob. Once it was opened he stepped noiselessly into the room, his feet missing all the trouble-spots on the creaky, old floorboards. I however, was not as lucky, but Sam didn't do anything, so I assumed I was not too loud. I had been so determined not to step on any creaky boards that I hadn't even got a chance to look for Quil yet, since entering the room.

My eyes lifted from the floor and I felt my heart crumble to pieces on the floor as I drank in the image of Quil's sleeping form. His body was wrapped in white bandages, his torso completely covered by them. His left arm, hung loosely in a sling, as his right lay dully at his side. The lower half of his body, from the hips down, was covered by a thin, woven blanket, so I wasn't able to witness any damages in those areas, but I'm sure that there were some, considering the condition the rest of his body was in. His head was gently pressed down on the pillows, his facical expression reminding me a lot of a child's, his facial features somehow softened when he was asleep. His messy hair was strewn across his forehead, sticking to it in some places from sweat, and flying away from it in others, of it's own accord. A thick white bandage was wrapped around his head, growing thicker in the back, but I couldn't see any damage because the back of his head was against the pillow.

I wanted to hug this man. I wanted to rest my head against his hard chest, brush my feather-light, fingertip touches over his forehead in soothing patterns, comforting him and listening to his goofy voice tell me jokes or his velvet voice tell me that everything was alright, everything would be perfectly fine. That he was perfectly fine. But I couldn't do that. And he couldn't do that. And that made the ache coming from my heart practically burst with throbbing pain.

Sam's soft whisper rose in the loud silence that the room had taken on, and I noticed he had somehow gotten quite a few steps closer to me, without me even noticing his subtle movements until he was whispering in my ear."His left arm is broken in two different places. Every single one of his ribs is either cracked or completely severed. His knee is twisted up pretty badly. The back of his head, his skull, is cracked."

_Holy shit. _

I must have looked pretty bad after that comment, because Sam felt the need to add.

"It looks worse than it is." He gave me a small, lop-sided, but hopeful smile. I didn't believe him. I couldn't. Not when Quil was laying right in front of my eyes, looking like _this_. _Like he had been through hell and back._ I think the sheer vision in front of me, Quil's sound asleep, torn apart body, was etched into the back of my eyelids indefintely. Everytime I blinked, no matter how fast I blinked, it was still there, sending shivers down my spine.

I ignored Sam, stepping forward, up to the side of the bed. I carefully rested my hand on the left side of his chest, my palm laying gently on his bandaged body. I waited a second, but Sam didn't protest, so I assumed that this touch was okay. I listened to the humming of his heart, his body inhaling and exhaling, rising and falling. Somehow, in some way, I felt all my worries melt away. I focused on his smile, his laugh, conjuring up random memories from different files of my brain, replaying them in my head. I pictured how he looked at that bonfire that seemed to have happened years ago. His eyes, even then, before I had loved him, had been full of joy, dancing as they seemed to swallow my soul. I thought about how he looked when he had come back for me in Boston, making the cross-country trip, just with simple intention of aplogizing to my face, rather than over a phone.

Suddenly, a memory so fuzzy, so vague in it's detail, came up, itching it's way to be remembered. It was a memory that had been long since forgotten, a memory that had taken a number of years, and many sleepless nights to forget. A memory I had spent a long time trying to block out, to pretend as if it never happened.

A man, tall, muscular, young in the face, but not in the frame, lifting a squealing toddler over his head, resting her on his shoulders, her tiny, chubby hands firmly grasping thickets of his slightly curly black hair. She giggled and swatted his hands away playfully as his fingers tickled her. He was walking down the beach, First Beach it appeared, his focus never wavering from the young girl resting on his broad shoulders. They both seemed completely happy, neither one losing their wide grins once. The girl soon pointed her fat little sausage of a finger down at the colorful array of rocks spread across the shoreline. The man bent down, the girl still on his shoulders, inquiring which rock she wanted. She told him, and he picked it up, giving it to her. She shook her little head, telling him that the rock was not the one she had wanted. He eyed another one. She declined. Another one. She shook her head no. Eventually he picked up a handful of rocks, to which she finally seemed satisfied with, but only to chuck them back at the man's head, laughing a high-pitched string of giggles that tickled eardrums. The man was not even close to being upset, actually on the contrary, the man chuckled along with the little girl, the memory slowly fading away, and the scene of Quil's bandaged body reappearing in front of my eyes.

"I'll be out in the living room, with Emily, if you need me. Take your time. I understand", Sam whispered, softly placing a hand on my shoulder, a small gesture of comfort, before exiting the small room without another sound. I lifted my hand from Quil's chest and moved it to his unbroken arm, running my fingers across the skin, barely touching it. I followed a path down his forearm, until I reached his hand, his open palm facing the ceiling. I quietly slid my hand into it, reveling in the heat seeping off of it.

I slumped down to the floor, making sure I avoided any loud noise, and leaned my back against the edge of the bed, my hand still resting in Quil's palm. I let my head gently fall against the side of Quil's muscular arm, my eyes closing.

He was broken. And in some part of my mind, I knew that this, his injuries, were'nt my fault. But instead of listening to that part of my mind, I accepted responisbility. This was my fault. I had let him go. He was fighting for me. It was my fault that he was laying in this bed, his bones broken. I wanted to cry, but the tears just wouldn't come.

I would wait. However long it took. I would wait here until my Quil was awake, and I could kiss him.

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><p>Review? Please and thank-you! :)<p> 


	19. I Missed You

Author's Note:

I'm ba-ack! Yes, I know what you're all thinking...hooray! No? Huh. Anyways, I would like to inform you all that I had an absoutely amazing time in Washington D.C. and the Fourth of July fireworks were epic, certainly a highlight of my life! I got to see all the monuments, memorials, Mount Vernon, Gettysburg, the Holoucaust Museum, National Archives, and the Museum of Natural History. Oh, and the White House...although I didn't get to meet Obama. Bummer. Well, here's the latest update, and hopefully I get tons of reviews from you guys so that I force myself to update very soon. ;)

Happy Reading!

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><p>Considering this website is titled Fanfiction, I would assume it kind of goes unsaid that I am not Stephanie Meyer and do not own Twilight. But...just thought I'd clarify in case.<p>

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><p><em>We will recover, <em>

_The worst is behind, _

_And it hurts, but in time, I know that we will recover. _

_Everybody's gotta a reason to cry, _

_And everybody fights but not everyone survives _

_And everybody's searching, not everybody finds _

_And I'm still in recovery, and I'll make it alive_

_-Recover, Natasha Bedingfield_

Ch. 19 I Missed You

"He's waking up dear", Sue Clearwater whispered, eliciting an excited yelp from me. I bounded over to Quil's bedside from my designated spot in the corner of the room. I had been sitting in that same spot for the last three days, waiting specifically for this moment, when Quil would wake up.

Sue had been Quil's makeshift 'nurse' for the last few days, since he couldn't go to a real hospital due to his werewolf traits, like his abnormal temperature and slightly faster heartrate. I never left the room, except to use the bathroom and shower. Emily brought meals to me. I didn't want to spend any more time away from Quil than I had to.

Sue quietly began packing her medical utensils away in a large, leather bag, before she exited the room to give us some privacy. Quil's eyes weren't quite open yet, but one of his large hands moved to rub his forehead. My heart was pounding so fast it felt like my chest was going to explode.

His eyelids finally opened, revealing those same chocolate eyes that I had missed seeing so much. A small smile graced his face, sending my heart into random spasms, a grin overtaking my own face in response.

"Hi", he mumbled simply, his voice croaky from not using it at all in the last few days. My smile widened.

"Hi", I greeted back, as his eyes scanned over my body slowly. It was as if he was checking me over for injuries. Suddenly, he winced, and I reflexively flinched. He was hurting. And it was my fault.

I was the reason he was sitting in this bed, his body tattered, his skull cracked. I was at fault for this, and I was so worried that he would hate me once he knew. I did this to him. And the guilt of this had been eating away at me for the last couple days. Emily had tried numerous times to tell me that I wasn't at fault here, that no one was at fault, but she had been comforting me, she wasn't honestly serious. It may not have been my fault directly, but somehow, I just knew in the depths of my being that I was at fault. I knew I hadn't been the one to break the bones per se, but somewhere in my heart I felt like I had.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, letting his head fall back on the pillow underneath it. This was the question I had spent the last three days preparing to answer, going over the words I would say over and over again in my mind, and now that the time was here, I couldn't open my mouth. "Claire?"

I lifted my head to meet his softened gaze, the rehearsed words finding me. "Your arm was broken in two different places, you had broke every single rib, your knee was twisted up, and the back of your skull was completely severe. The bone's still not completely healed, Sue said", I informed him, my voice very low and quiet.

He didn't look mad, or sad, or scared. His handsome face was blank, all sign of emotion wiped clear off it. And that frightened me even more than any of those emotions. I would rather him be angry or upset than totally swiped of emotion.

"Quil? I'm so sorry. I - ", I began to recite a long list of apologies, none were exactly for any particular reason, just because I felt like they were due. But Quil's hard voice stopped me.

"_Why_ are you apologizing?" He questioned, almost harshly, his eyebrows furrowing together. At least he was giving me some type of emotion now.

"I don't really know", I admitted quietly, running a shaky hand through my messy, short bob. "I guess, for the reason you're hurt. It was my fault, you were protecting me. This all wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me", I sighed solemnly, gesturing towards his bandaged injuries.

They were all healed, thanks to Quil's wolfy powers, but the gash in the back of his head was still there. Sue said that it was a deep open wound, and it would probably take close to a week to completely heal. She said he might even have some memory loss issues because of it, nothing to serious, but little memories here and there might be gone.

To my surprise, Quil's confused face turned into a wide smile, and he chuckled lightly. My heart fluttered.

"Claire, I would protect you, to the ends of the earth, but I would have gotten injured whether you existed or..._not_." He paused to cringe. "I have a responsibility as a member of the pack to protect the reservation, and my pack member's imprints. Even if I didn't need to protect you, I would have still been in that clearing, and I still would have gotten hurt. None of this, none of it could ever be _your_ fault."

His words brought an internal rush of relief over my insides, loosening all of the anxiousness that had accumulated over the last few days. This really wasn't my fault. Quil would have been injured even if I wasn't existent. It wasn't my fault.

_Entirely._

"So, how long have I been out?" Quil casually wondered, stretching out his arms and wincing when he felt some minor pain. The joints finally cracked, and he looked like he felt slightly better.

"Three days or so." It had been some of the loneliest days of my life.

"Holy shit! That's a new record. Did I miss anything interesting?" He inquired, his brown eyes looking into mine with curiosity.

"Nothing much. Everyone's stopped in to visit you. Jared and Kim brought you a balloon." I pointed to the balloon who's paperclip weight rested on top of the nightstand, and read, 'Get Well Soon' in cursive lettering. "Sue Clearwater's been taking care of you."

He smiled at the balloon briefly before resting his intent gaze on my face once again. He lifted out a hand towards me, and I took it, relishing in the comforting feeling of his warmth incasing it. I probably let out a pathetic sigh at the relaxing feeling.

"Did you miss me?" He wondered softly, his fingers rubbing light circles onto the back of my hand as his dark eyes peered into mine with intensity.

_What kind of question was that?_

"More than you could ever imagine." I smiled widely down at him. I leaned down to kiss his cheek, mostly because I couldn't resist any longer, but Quil tilted his head so that our lips touched instead. The kiss was soft, warm, slow, a feeling of 'coming home' spreading through it. He was the first to pull away, and I stood back up.

I had waited three aggravating days for that one kiss, and it was worth it. _So_ worth it...

A large grin of pride ran across his lips, but quickly dissipated. He lifted his other hand to the back of his head, and let out a small groan as he touched the gauze-covered wound. I felt my stomach shift, nasuea coming forth. It made me sick to see Quil in this much pain.

"Tell the truth, how much does it hurt?"

Quil seemed to contemplate his answer, which hinted me that whatever response that I would get from him would be a condensed, simplified version of what he was actually feeling.

"S'not so bad." _Yeah, right._

"Don't lie to me." He sighed. "On a scale of one to ten?"

"Claire..."

I decided it was better not to pursue it further, just drop the subject. Quil was a guy that didn't believe in showing weakness, so I would never be able to get an honest answer about his level of pain anyways.

"So, you feel up for any food?" I questioned, pointing to the array of food on the bedside table.

"Is that even a question?" Quil countered, a playful smirk replacing the pained demeanor. I laughed.

"Thought so." I reluctantly let go of Quil's warm hand to grab the platter of food Emily had arranged earlier today for my own lunch. I hadn't been very hungry, so Quil could have it. I of course knew Quil wouldn't let me give him food that was intended for me, so I didn't mention anything.

I set it on his stomach carefully, making sure not to brush any ribs in case they were still bothering him, and giggled when I noticed the unmistakable hungry glint lingering in his eyes, as the food was displayed in front of him. If there was one thing that never failed to cheer Quil up, it was food.

"Thank you", he said, taking a huge bite out of the deli sandwich and munching loudly. Emily had also put a portion of potato chips, a square frosted brownie, and a tall glass of milk on the tray, which Quil wasted no time in devouring.

I simply watched, joy overtaking my being. Quil wasn't totally healed, everything wasn't entirely back to normal, and we had a long road to recovery in front of us, but at this moment in time, I couldn't ask for any more. As long as I had Quil, I could smile.

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><p>Aww... :) Don't you just love the sweetness? I do. Review please, and let me know your thoughts. Believe it or not, they help me become a better writer. Plus, I'd like to know if any of you have song lyric suggestions that you think might apply to future chapters, or just some lyrics from some of your own favorite songs. Thanks a bunch!<p> 


	20. The Next Step

**Author's Note:**

**You're update has arrived! It's a little less depressing than the last two have been...thank goodness. I don't like writing sad chapters, they dampen my mood. Just a head's up, I'm heading to Florida this week for a vacation, so I won't be able to update until I get back! Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoy, and don't hesitate to comment. I have been getting some new reviewers lately, and I hope I get even more. I love reading your reviews, even if they are to just say hi. So make sure you review! Please and thank you! :)**

**Happy Reading!**

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><p><strong>I don't own Twilight, but if Stephanie Meyer does happen to be reading this, I would highly encourage her to donate some of the rights to me...<strong>

* * *

><p><em>The moonlight of your soul, <em>

_told of memories long ago,_

_Of the days when we were young,_

_Of love that we'd forever hold,_

_Truly, truly trust your heart,_

_Truly, truly trust your heart_

_-Trust Your Heart, The Kinks_

Ch. 20 The Next Step

"Well Quil, it looks like you should be all set to phase again, whenever you feel ready. All the bones are healed, even the crack in your skull, but you still might have some headaches from that", Sue informed Quil, Emily, Sam and I. A week had passed since the entire incident happened, and Quil was finally well enough to go back home and phase again.

He did look a heck of a lot better. He no longer winced when he moved wrong, and he looked healthier in the face, too. I couldn't help but hope that his fast recovery was partly due to me being around him 24/7. At least I hoped that was why.

Anyway, I was really happy to hear Sue's news, almost as much as Quil himself. I knew being a part of the pack meant the world to Quil, and the thought of him having to give that up forever...it frightened me.

"That means he can get the hell out of my house, too, right Sue?" Sam asked, a joking smile plastered across his face. Emily whacked him on the shoulder, but couldn't help but let a smile break through. Even I let out a small chuckle at Quil's expense.

"Yes, I'm afraid it does", Sue laughed, packing away her supplies into her little leather bag. Quil was the only one that hadn't laughed yet, and when I looked over to register his face, it was...blank. His eyes looked nervous, his body tense, his face blank from any expression at all.

"Quil, are you alright?" Emily wondered, lifting her palm to Quil's forehead to take his temperature. He did look a little green in the face.

Quil answered after a few seconds of silence. "Uh-huh. Um...Claire?"

"Hmm?" I questioned, taking Quil's large hand in mine.

"I'm going back to my house...", he started, pausing to take a deep breath.

"And...", I urged, confused as to why he what he was so nervous about.

"And I want you to come with me." He looked up at me, assesing my expression, which was full-blown shock.

Move in...with Quil? I mean, I guess it would be the next step for our relationship, but...I didn't expect him to ask, like now. Now was soon. Very soon.

But if I said no, he would think me declining meant I didn't take our relationship seriously. I did, God knows I did, but I don't know if I was ready to live with him. I've never lived with a boyfriend before. Dylan and I had our own apartments. This would be completely new territory for me.

"Uh...um...uh", I fumbled, trying to form my thoughts into words. It wasn't really working.

"I understand if you aren't comfortable with that. You don't have to feel like you have to. I'm a big boy, Claire", Quil mumbled, looking totally destroyed. _Oh...God no...that's not what I meant..._

"_NO_!" I practically screamed, forgetting that Sam, Emily, and Sue were still in the room. They looked a little startled from my unexpected blow-up, but they all quickly shuffled out, sensing Quil and I needed some privacy to talk this one out.

"No, Quil, I didn't mean to give the impression that I don't want to live with you. I do. Really, I do. But, I've never lived with a guy before, other than my dad and Sam, so I'm just a little unsure. I'm just scared", I admitted, my voice softer than before, my eyes darting everywhere around the room except Quil's face.

I heard a low chuckle coming from Quil, and my curiosity got the best of me. I glanced over to see Quil holding back a full out laugh-fest. What could he possibly think was so funny right now?

"What?" I asked, my voice a mixture between irritation and confusion. He just laughed harder.

I waited patiently, glaring at him the entire time, until he managed to contain his giggling so that he could explain.

"You- you're nervous?" He sputtered, a huge smile still gracing his handsome face.

I suddenly felt self-concious with his inquiry. Yeah, I was nervous, what was wrong with that?

"Yeah. Why's that so funny about that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at his humor-filled face.

"Claire, I'm not gonna bite you. It's not gonna be _scary_. What are you so worried about?" Quil wondered, his smile finally fading into a questioning gaze, his brown eyes studying my face.

"I'm- I'm nervous about everything. What if you don't like me? I'm not very attractive in the mornings you know, and my morning breath is just nasty. And what if we like to watch different TV shows. Or if we have different cleaning patterns. And...what if we end up fighting all the time? And then we'll never want to see each other again...", I shot off, creating all these horrible, hypothetical situations that could be very real possibilites...

"Claire. I _imprinted_ on you. Do you understand what that even means?" Quil asked, staring at me with those intense chocolate eyes, almost to the point of making me blush.

Of course I knew what imprinting means. He's explained it to me before.

"Yeah."

"Well then you should know that none of those issues will ever happen to us. I was made to make you happy. Even if you don't look gorgeous in the mornings, which I highly doubt because you're always beautiful, I will still love you. And I have some nasty morning breath, too...And if we watch different shows, than we'll take turns. And if I'm too messy for you, well then, I'll work on being cleaner. We won't fight all the time because I can't fight with you. It hurts me too much", Quil explained, running a finger across my forehead to brush away a few straying strands. "So what do you say? Will you move in with me?"

This time, I had no doubts. "I'd like that", I replied, smiling wide. Quil's smile soon matched mine.

"You have no idea how much this means to me, Claire. I promise, we'll take it day-by-day, I'll make sure you're comfortable. You don't have to worry", Quil gushed, squeezing my hands and standing up off the bed. "You won't regret this."

And I was one hundred and ten percent sure that he was right. I wouldn't regret this.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Claire, I told you to stop carrying those boxes!" Quil scolded, running outside to pry yet another moving box from my reluctant hands. He didn't want me to carry the moving boxes because apparently I 'could trip and fall, or get a backache, or stub my toe'.<p>

_Pssh. Overprotective werewolf._

Quil's house wasn't really how I expected it. He told me he used to room with Embry, before Embry found his imprint, so I figured the house would be a total bachelor pad. It really wasn't.

It was right on the edge of La Push, surrounded by woods, and not to far from Rialto Beach. The house was three bedrooms, two bathrooms. The siding was white, shingles grey, and the steps leading up to the white screen door were wood. Black shutters framed the windows at the front of the house. A few bushes and scrubs decorated the stone pathway connecting the stairs to the road. There wasn't a garage, Quil just pulled up right on the lawn.

Inside, the house was even more of a surprise. The living room was fairly decent in size, a creamy color coating the walls. A large, comfy looking brown leather couch filled most of the room, while a wooden entertainment center framed a large television. A lamp stood in the corner, and a matching coffee table sat inbetween the couch and the TV.

The kitchen was equally cozy, plenty of wooden cabinets surrounding sky blue walls. The countertops were a simple tan tile, even more shocking was that they were spotless. The appliances were all white, and clearly cleaned regularly. There wasn't a formal dining room, so a small, round wooden table with matching chairs sat in one corner of the kitchen, next to a back door leading to the backyard.

The master room was a deep burgandy color, and the bedding was cream and burgandy checkerboard print. Two nightstands stood on either sides of the king-size bed and a large wooden dresser sat across from the end of the bed. A master bath was attached to the room, and was pretty impressive. A large, whirlpool tub/shower, double sinks with matching tan tile from the kitchen, and a white toilet.

The other rooms were empty, both smaller than the master room, but equal to each other in size. One was painted a grayish color, the other was a peach tone. The other bathroom had a shower stall, single sink and toilet.

The house was nice, but the most shocking thing for me was how clean and neat the entire place was. _I didn't know Quil was a maid on the side!_

I took my bags to the master, and Quil cleaned out over half of his drawers for my clothes, even after I told him he didn't need to, I could get rid of some of my stuff. He didn't listen though.

After we finished unpacking, we didn't really know what to do. I stared at Quil, and he stared right back. We were alone. In _our_ house.

Quil called it that. _Our_ house. It sent tingling sensations down my spine.

"Should we - Do you wanna play a board game?" Quil asked, his eyes flitting to the closet where he kept the games, I assume.

"Why not?" _It's not like we had anything better to do...well, I could think of some other things, but..._

He smiled and opened the closet to reveal the stacks of childhood games he had accumulated. Clue, Monopoly, Sorry, Chutes and Ladders, Mousetrap, Yahtzee, Jenga, Scrabble, Pictionary, and Candyland. Quite the collection.

"Pick whatever one you want", Quil said, staring intently at me.

_Decisions...decisions._ "Scrabble."

Quil reached up, skillfully sliding the box out from under some of the other boxes, and brought it down. I followed him out into the living room, where he set the box down and began to pull out all the pieces. Little did Quil know that I was the champion at this game. Literally.

In my elementary school in Boston, they had a Scrabble tournament once, and I got first place. I won the championship round with the high scoring word, Quartzy. Quil was about to get his unsuspecting ass kicked.

By a girl.

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><p><strong>Finally, some funniness. I was getting sick of all that angst.<strong>

**Review and let me know your thoughts! :)**

**And make sure you check out my new blog - the link is on my profile!**


	21. Perfectly Content

**Author's Note:**

**Yes, yes, I am alive! I apologize, again, for taking so long to update. I had an amazing vacation in Florida, and after I got back, I hit a little spurt of writer's block. So...here I am with the new chapter. I want to inform you all that this will be the last normal chapter for this story, but I will add an epilogue chapter soon. So keep an eye out for that, and thank you all for sticking with me despite my stupid absences. I love you, and make sure to review!**

**Happy Reading!**

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><p><strong>I do not own Twilight, or Taylor Lautner, or a Vera Wang dress, or a Gucci purse, or an Iphone 4, or a cat, or many of the other things I wish I owned. Sad day.<strong>

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><p><em>And in this crazy life, <em>

_and through these crazy times,_

_It's you, it's you, you make me sing._

_You're every line, you're every word, _

_you're everything. _

_You're every song, and I sing along._

_'Cause you're my everything._

_-Everything, Michael Buble_

Ch. 21 Perfectly Content

I anxiously knawed on my fingernails as my heart thrummed a million miles an hour in my chest.

"Relax, Claire, whatever happens, it'll all work out", Emily reassured, gently resting her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, we're here for you", Kim piped up, kneeling down to my eye level because of my perch on the toilet.

I was panicking. My entire future depended on the little line that may or may not appear on that plastic stick sitting on the sink counter. I could be a mom...

"It's time", Rachel announced, looking up with nervous eyes from her wristwatch.

I took a deep breath before reaching for the tiny white stick that could change my life. If it had two lines, I was pregnant. If there was only one line, I wasn't.

And right now...I didn't know which option I wanted to see.

I closed my eyes, until I had the stick directly in front of my face. I took one more long breath of air, and cracked my eyes open to peek at the stick.

Holy crap.

I was pregnant.

I was going to be a mom.

Quil was going to be a dad.

We were going to be parents...to a baby.

A _baby._

"What does it say?" Kim wondered softly, trying to guage my expression. I couldn't breathe.

"Whoa, Claire, breathe, calm down", Emily ordered, patting me on the back in attempt to knock some air into my lungs.

I inhaled a huge gulp.

"So...what's it say?" Rachel pressed, waiting for my answer intently.

"It says...I'm pregnant", I answered, having trouble saying those words out loud.

"How do you feel?" Emily asked, rubbing my knee comfortingly.

I didn't know how I felt. Nervous. Scared. Happy. Excited. Anxious. Confused.

"I'm not sure..."

They shared worried glances with each other before redirecting their eyes back to me.

"When are you going to tell him?" Kim questioned slowly.

Crap. I hadn't even thought of that. How was I going to break the news to Quil? Would he even want a baby? We were living together...which is kind of how I got into this situation...but that didn't necessarily mean Quil wanted a baby. We weren't even married yet. Or engaged.

Oh God.

"I don't know."

* * *

><p>"This is amazing Claire, what'd you put on it?" Quil asked, his mouth full of the steak I had made for supper tonight.<p>

"I just put some sugar into the barbeque sauce", I replied blandly, my mouth dry. I was so nervous and on edge that I had barely touched my dinner.

"Why aren't you eating anything?" Quil wondered, on cue, setting his fork down and assesing my expression.

"I'm just not very hungry. I had a big lunch", I lied, wringing my hands below the table. I was going to tell Quil that I was pregnant after dinner...and I still had no clue on how I was going to come out with it.

"Oh. What you'd have?" He questioned casually, going back to attacking his meal. I had also made potatoes, carrots, and green beans. Quil had a huge helping of each.

"A...taco...bowl and a big ice-cream cone", I lied again, feeling sick to my stomach. I had just started to get morning sickness this week, and it was kicking my butt, especially hiding it from Quil and his super senses. I figured out that I was about a month and a half along most likely.

"Hmm, that sounds good." Quil smiled, popping a carrot into his mouth. Then his face dropped. "God, Claire, are you okay? You're super pale." He leaned over the table and put his palm to my forehead, checking my temperature.

"I'm fine", I answered, even though he wouldn't believe me. Every time I got sick Quil freaked out like this.

"Are you sure?" He wondered, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Positive."

"Uh-huh...", he mumbled, and I knew he thought I was lying.

I waited patiently for Quil to finish his meal, and then we washed the dishes together. After that, I suggested we watch a movie in the living room. Quil agreed, and we piled onto the couch together, my back resting on Quil's chest, as he fiddled with my hair that now reached my shoulders.

"Uh...Quil?" I ventured, sounding very squeaky and nervous. Much like I was.

"Yeah?" He wondered, and hearing my tone, sitting up while spinning me around so that I was facing him. I almost forgot what I was going to say as I looked into his soft chocolate eyes, the same ones that never failed to mesmerize me.

"I'm pregnant", I blurted, squeezing my eyes shut because I wasn't sure I wanted to see Quil's reaction. Seconds later, I felt Quil's fingers on my eyelids, prying them open carefully.

"Claire?" He sounded quiet and hesitant. I gulped.

"Yeah?" I whispered, my voice failing me.

"Why are you closing your eyes?" He wondered, caressing the sides of my face with his gentle fingers.

I blinked. "I didn't know if you'd be mad or not", I admitted, avoiding his eyes. His fingers soon found my chin and pulled my face to meet his eyes.

"Why would you think I'd be mad?" He asked, his face still absent from any emotion.

"I don't know...", I sputtered, feeling out of place and awkward.

"Well, I'm not. Actually, I'm happy. Really happy." I glanced up, seeing a large, bright smile spread across his face.

A burst of relief and excitment shot through me. Quil wanted to be a dad to my child.

"So am I", I said, a smile reaching my lips. Quil pulled my face to his and kissed me lightly before pulling away.

"We're gonna be parents", he stated, almost to himself. I nodded. "Mommy."

I laughed. "Daddy."

"I like the sound of that", he chuckled, pulling me in for a deep kiss this time.

* * *

><p>"UHHHH! God, OH, UGH!" I screamed; labor was definitely not what I expected. It was worse. A lot worse. I was squeezing Quil's hand, probably hard enough that it hurt him, even being a shapeshifter.<p>

"You're almost there, Claire-bear. A little further. You can do it", Quil encouraged, smiling widely at me with sweat beading on his brow. His eyes radiated happiness, giving me strength to push even harder.

"Okay, Claire, one more push should do it. 3...2...1...push!" Dr. Hart, my birthing doctor instructed.

I pushed through the nearly unbearable pain one more time, regretting my decision to not get an epidural, and was rewarded with a sudden explosion of crying. A baby's crying.

"And you have a baby girl, Miss Mason", Dr. Hart announced, as a nurse carried away what looked to be a mop of black hair. Quil was looking down at me with a huge smile on his face, brighter than I think I'd ever seen it get. I was tired, exhausted actually, but joy swelled in my heart. I was a mother.

"I'm so proud of you, Claire", Quil said, brushing some sweaty strands of hair out of my eyes.

"I love you", I breathed, looking up at him with a grin.

"I love you, too, sweetheart. I always have and always will."

"What would you like to name her?" A nurse interrupted our moment, her arms encasing a little pink bundle that had just become my whole entire world. I smiled, glancing at Quil, before giving the nurse the name we had both agreed upon weeks ago.

"Harper Emily Ateara", I said. She smiled, and nodded, and walked over to me, handing the pink bundle my way. I accepted it, and lifted it to my chest.

She was beautiful. She had the tan Quileute skin, obviously, and Quil's curly locks, but it was the same crow black color as mine, and her wide-open eyes were the same chocolate shade of Quil's, with a few flecks of my eye color. Her little hand peeked out from under the layers of pink, and I immediately lifted my finger towards it, giggling as hers wrapped around mine. I heard Quil's low chuckle from above and glanced up.

He was grinning widely, his eyes dancing with happiness. "Do you want to hold her?" I questioned, even though I had only been holding her for about thirty seconds.

He smiled, but shook his head. I frowned. "I would love to, but I love watching you and her too much to have you give her up, I think", he admitted, giving me a small peck on the forehead.

She hiccuped suddenly, and we both laughed, as we watched her huge brown eyes curiously study us.

Harper Emily Ateara was going to be one lucky girl.

* * *

><p>Of course, Emily was the godmother of Harper, and Sam was the godfather. So, when they came to visit baby Harper in the hospital, Emily started bawling when she heard she was the godmother. It was the Emily thing to do.<p>

"Really? Me? Are you sure?" She blubbered, sneezing into a tissue a nurse handed her. Sam was gently patting her back, chuckling under his breath at his wife's freakout.

"Emily, you were the only person I could imagine being my child's godmother", I confessed, smiling as I rocked Harper back and forth. Quil was relaxing in the chair next to my hospital bed, watching me.

Emily smiled through her tears of joy, and then hid her face in Sam's neck. Sam grinned, looking down at her, before glancing at me, and mouthing, 'thank-you'. I laughed, and nodded. Sam gave a small nod to Quil, who nodded back, before shuffling out of the room, with a sobbing Emily in tow.

I looked over at Quil once they had left, and gestured towards a sleeping Harper with my head. Quil smiled, so I carefully lifted her off my body, handing her into her father's large hands. He skillfully set her down on his warm chest, making sure not to jostle her body.

I sighed, and turned onto my side, getting a better view of my daughter and fiance. Quil had proposed this morning.

Right now, I was perfectly content. I had a gorgeous daughter. A perfect fiance. And life was only gonna get better from here...

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><p><strong>What'd you think? <span>Review<span> and let me know what you thought! And remember the next chapter I put up will be the last, it'll be titled Epilogue. So keep an eye out for that, and thank you all so much for supporting this story. I'll hopefully be starting another imprint story soon, and in the meantime, if you haven't already, check out my other story up right now, Opposites Attract, about Seth and his imprint. Thanks!**


	22. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **

**Well, folks, this is the last time you will see an update for this story. :( I hope you all have enjoyed reading it just as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Although this is the end of this story, I will be starting a new imprint story soon...whenever I decide which imprint couple to do next. I have a few different ideas. Kim/Jared or a Paul/Rachel fic are both on the top of my list, so if you care, which one do you wanna see first? Let me know in a review of this chapter, or a PM. Thanks for all the support, and I hope you enjoy this last chapter. **

**Happy Reading!**

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><p><strong>Twilight is not something I own. But that's okay, because I can write fanficition instead.<strong>

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><p><em>I wasn't so sure at the start,<em>

_Now I wanna be there wherever you are,_

_and I can't deny,_

_How you got me feeling inside,_

_If you think this is as good as it gets,_

_I swear you haven't seen nothing yet,_

_I promise you I'm gonna love you,_

_the rest of my life._

_-For the Rest of My Life, Brian McKnight_

Ch. 22 Epilogue

"Mommy, mommy!" Harper squealed as she yanked on my pant leg. I sighed, finished installing the new filter in the coffee maker and leaned down to Harper's eye level. She was five now, full of personality. Her crow black hair was down past her shoulders, and her large, always expressive eyes were the same tone of brown as mine, with flecks of Quil's.

"What's up, baby?" I wondered, combing some wild hair back down. Her cheeks were flushed and rosy, so I knew she had been running. Quil was outside right now, cleaning the gutters out, so naturally, Harper followed him, claiming she was going to help. She was certainly a daddy's girl. And she had him wrapped around her little finger.

"Daddy said he needed your help", she huffed, out of breath from the sprinting. I smiled.

"Oh, did he?" I knew Quil had to be up to something. He gave up his wolfhood, even after I begged him not to, but he still maintained the muscular physique. So what could he possibly need help with...?

She nodded her head furiously, her brown eyes wide. I laughed.

"Okay, tell him I'll be out there in a minute, I'm gonna pour myself some coffee first."

She smiled and turned around to run back out. We had moved to a bigger house in La Push shortly after Harper was born, because we needed more room if we were going to expand our famiy like we planned. We got married a year after Harper was born, mostly because it gave me enough time to lose most of my pregnancy weight. If Quil would have had it his way, we would have had the wedding the day after I got out of the hospital. After the wedding, we moved in to our current house. We started trying for another baby, and I got pregnant when Harper was two. But after six months, an ultrasound revealed that the baby's heartbeat was no longer there. I had a miscarrige.

It was a really tough time for me, and Quil. We stopped trying for awhile, but just eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant once again. At first it was nervewrecking, because I didn't know if this pregnancy would end in a miscarrige either. But now that I was eight months along, and the doctor's haven't detected any health issues in the baby, I'm finally getting excited. We're not finding out if it's a boy or a girl. Harper wants a boy, and I'm pretty sure that's what Quil's hoping for, too, but I personally don't really care, as long as he or she is healthy.

"Hey, honey", Quil said, grinning from his place on top of the ladder, facing our roof. I smiled as I stepped out onto the back deck with my steaming mug in hand. Harper was sure enough, running around the yard with the newest edition to our family, Hershey, a chocolate lab puppy we got a few weeks ago from one of my friends. He and Harper were already best friends.

"Harper told me that you needed my help?" I asked as his grin turned into more of smirk. I had no clue what that face meant, but I was positive it was nothing good.

"Yes I do. Could you go grab the bucket out of the garage and bring it to me to put all these leaves in?" He wondered, gesturing to the muck of a mess in the gutters. I laughed at his disgusted face.

"Sure. I'll be right back", I agreed, walking towards the garage to find the bucket Quil needed. How he forgot the bucket I couldn't be sure, but over the years, I've learned Quil can be very forgetful.

I scanned the shelves of our two-car garage, searching for said bucket. Somehow we had accumulated a lot of outdoor toys since Harper was born. Sidewalk chalk, basketballs, volleyballs, soccer balls, a few tennis rackets, water toys, bubbles, rollerblades, frisbees, camping tents, lawnchairs, badminton birdies and rackets, and three surfboards filled our shelves. Of course, in no organizational order whatsoever, which frustrated me at points, but I learned to be for the most part, okay with. Harper seemed to have gotten Quil's genes when it came to organization.

The desired bucket was spotted, but it's location happened to be on the very top shelf. I was average in height, but that shelf was way above my head. I thought about calling Quil in for assistance, but since he hadn't gotten down to get it himself, I figured he probably asked me to get it for a reason. So I took the stool that was coveniently sitting directly next to the shelf, I didn't remember it being there, but I took it just the same and pulled it directly in front of the bucket. I stepped up and on my tippytoes, could reach the lip of the bucket. I gently pulled it down and...

_Oh. My. God. _

_No. Freaking. Way._

"Quil!" I wailed, the joyful tears already pouring out of my eyes like a waterfall. I heard the loud thump of what I presumed to be his feet hitting the ground from jumping off the latter, his footfalls as he ran into the garage, and his worried expression as he came in to see me bawling like the minute I was born.

He wasted no time in wrapping his long, thickly muscled arms around my pregnant body. "What's wrong? Why are you crying? Did you fall?" He fired the questions anxiously, his eyes inspecting my body for any sign of injury.

I shook my head, still crying uncontrollably, and pointed to the tiny, heart-shaped pink note taped to the inside bottom of the bucket. Immediately after, a relieved grin came across Quil's face and he squeezed me lightly in his embrace.

"Do you like it?" He asked, one of his hands unprying itself from my hip to come up and brush my cheek lightly, removing the teardrops.

I sniffled and nodded my head.

On that little pink, heart-shaped note was a card that read, "Happy 5th Anniversary, baby", and had a little card that showed a picture of a resort that I had told Quil about after seeing it on a commercial. It wasn't a Bahamas resort or anything fancy like that, but it was quaint bed and breakfast resort out in the middle of nowhere, about an hour away from Seattle.

_He remembered._

"I love you, Claire", he gushed, kissing my head, before bending over to kiss my pertruding stomach.

Reality came back as the tears finally ended. Thoughts flew around my brain suddenly, bringing me back down from my blissful high.

"Wait, Quil, where's Harper gonna stay while we're gone? How long are we going to be gone? What if I go into labor while we're there? Oh, god! Can we even afford this?" I blurted, each question stressing me out further. Quil quickly pulled me into his chest, sucsessfully shutting my mouth before I could ask anything else. His fingers threaded through my hair and began massaging my scalp.

"Relax, sweetheart. Harper's staying with my parents, and we can call her every night. We're only gonna be gone for this weekend. Friday night, all of Saturday, all of Sunday, and we're leaving Monday morning. If you go into labor, I talked to the doctors at the closest hospital, and they assured me they'll be prepared if that should happen. Even though it most likely won't. And yes, we can swing it. I've been putting in some extra hours at the shop", he said with a sweet smile, effectively melting me like always.

"Thank you, Quil", I mumbled contentedly into his warm chest. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

"You're welcome."

* * *

><p>"This is...beautiful", I exclaimed, stepping into our seperate cottage on the bed and breakfast property. Quil set our suitcases down and enveloped me in his arms. I sighed and leaned into his touch.<p>

"You're beautiful", he whispered in my ear, the tickle of his breath making me shudder, my nether regions reacting immediately. Being pregnant meant a few different things. One, I was very emotional. Which explains why I bawled like a newborn baby when I found out Quil booked us this trip. Two, I craved the most unusual meals. Three, my breasts have increased about two cup sizes. Four, I was so horny. Dry-humping-horny.

"That was the cheesiest line ever", I giggled, taking in the scenery of our new surroundings. The walls were a warm cinnamon color, and oak hardwood floors ran throughout the room.

"You loved it", Quil cockily stated, nipping gently on my earlobe. I yelped in surprise, but shockwaves went straight down to my female facilities.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I was all for never leaving the bedroom on this vacation, but I was also eight months pregnant, which meant sex wasn't exactly the most comfortable for me at the moment. Which irritated me to hell because I don't think I've ever been hornier than when I've been pregnant.

Quil and I hadn't actually had sex for two months. Just some foreplay, because we didn't have to deal with my bulging belly that way.

"Quil...", I warned, knowing if he took this any farther, I might not be in a good position to say no. Heck, I wasn't in the position to decline sex right now. My baby-maker was tingling.

"Claire...", Quil teased back, clearly not taking my warning as seriously as he probably should have. Oh well.

I felt his lips close and suckle down my neck, and a rush of wetness bombarding my granny panties. They were the only ones that fit me when I was eight months pregnant. Quil once told me when I was pregnant with Harper that I made them look hot. _Pfft._

I got frustrated with no distraction from my pulsing center, so I yanked Quil's head towards mine and connected our lips. He gasped in shock and pleasure, and I used that moment to sneak my tongue into his mouth and explore. His taste was so delicious...so sexy...I took my time exploring.

This time, Quil was the reluctant one. He pulled away, gently encasing my face in between his hands, his black eyes focusing on mine. I could barely recognize the difference between his iris and his pupil.

"Are you up for this, Claire-bear? I don't want to push you or put you in any pain", Quil spoke softly, rubbing smooth circles with the pads of his thumbs into my skin.

I nodded. I would always be up for loving my husband. Even if I _was_ eight months pregnant.

* * *

><p>"Ready to go?" Quil questioned, leaning on the door that led outside into the parking lot. I sighed.<p>

I really had enjoyed the weekend stay. I missed Harper like crazy, but I called to say goodnight each night, and Quil did do a pretty good job of _distracting_ me for most of the vacation.

When we had managed to rid ourselves of the California King-sized bed, we spent some time using the resort's ammenities. Hiking trails, kayaking, and the apple-cider-making-session were all great ways to enjoy each other's company. I knew Quil was perfect for me long before I came here, but with how busy our lives have gotten, I felt almost like I'd re-fell in love with Quil all over again these last couple days.

"Yeah, let's go home", I mumbled, my shoulders slumping as I slugged/waddled out to the car.

Quil chuckled lightly at my pouty face as hopped into the driver's seat next to me. "What's wrong?"

"We're leaving", I simply replied, knowing he would understand.

"I know. I liked it here, too. But don't worry, I think this won't be our last visit here", he hinted with a wink.

I smiled at that.

The ride back to La Push was long and fairly silent. But it was a comfortable quiet, a companionable silence. Quil and I were both delved into our own thoughts. Although I may not have known what his were, I knew what mine were fluttering over.

How this all started. How Quil and I went from square one to sqaure two. From A, to B, to C.

It was all a series of decisions on my part. Quil had never pushed or pressed or forced me into the steps of our relationship. They were all decisions made by me.

The decision to visit La Push, like my mother wanted me so badly to. The decision to leave La Push after Quil's reaction to my engagment that had troubled me so much. The decision to come back with Quil, to give him another chance to prove that he loved me. The decision to date Quil, my knight in shining armor. The decision to move in with Quil. The decision to have Quil's child, even though the thought of being a parent scared the living daylights out of me. The decision to marry Quil, to spend the rest of my life in his arms.

And sitting here, next to Quil, watching his lips curve into that smile I loved, knowing that I was ogling at him, they're was no doubt in my mind that I had made the right decision in loving him.

But maybe these 'decisions' were never even decisions...maybe it was just...

_Fate._

* * *

><p><strong>Well...The end. I hope you liked the way this story ended, and don't be afraid to review and let me know. I want to thank all my reviewers over the course of this story, for the support and motivation that you gave me to continue. I will be writing another imprint story, hopefully starting soon, but I need more input on who's story you want me to tell next. JaredKim or Paul/Rachel? And don't forget to check out the other story I have up on my account right now...Opposites Attract, a story about Seth and his OC imprint, Dakota. Thank you all, and I love you. :)**


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